Harry Potter and the Forbidden Passage
by Cendrillon
Summary: Harry's fifth year left him in greater peril and filled with more questions than ever before. Dumbledore answered some of them, but the revelations have only just begun...Updated Chapter 19: Flashes of Red
1. Ch 1: Hope and Despair

**Harry Potter and the Forbidden Passage**   
  
by Cendrillon 

_Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to the creative mind of J.K. Rowling and I am not receiving any monetary compensation for this story. I am merely borrowing the characters for my own amusement during what will no doubt be a long wait for Book 6._

_Author's Note: Many thanks to Ozma, my Sugar Quill beta-reader. A big thank you also to my sister who analyzed and discussed all of the mysteries and plot points with me at length and made sure I was true to canon wherever possible.   
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**Chapter 1: Hope and Despair  
  
  
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Life with the Dursleys in the summer following Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts had improved in more ways than he could have ever imagined. He had never before experienced the kind of freedom with the Dursleys he was given that summer. He was allowed to watch television whenever he liked and, unbelievably, to use Dudley's computer and video games. Even Hedwig's squawking was tolerated reasonably. On the surface, he was treated as decently as anyone would expect normal human beings to treat one another, which was quite odd for the Dursleys. 

Beyond these simple permissions, the Dursleys had tried to please Harry in other ways, such as the time when Aunt Petunia cooked one of his favorite meals and actually served him a full-sized portion of it. And even more shocking, they bought him new clothes and a new pair of glasses. The Dursleys had never given Harry anything new before in his life. 

When Harry asked his aunt why she was buying him these things, she looked around the department store and answered in a furious whisper, "The neighbors have been noticing how shabbily you dress, we don't want to call more attention to you than your freakish behavior already does." She gave him the very familiar hateful glare that he had known all of his life. "Look at these filthy rags you've made of Dudder's clothing," she sniped, pointing at the threadbare pair of jeans he was wearing, full of rips and holes. 

Harry kept his mouth shut, but thought of how he had been forced to wear that same pair of jeans through several growth spurts over the past six years. Of course, what the Dursleys would never admit was that they had taken Moody's threat very seriously. They didn't dare mistreat Harry for fear of several full grown wizards showing up on their doorstep. 

The one thing that Harry appreciated more than anything else was that he was allowed access to all of his things from Hogwarts without protest. And, despite Uncle Vernon's past objections, he could even send and receive mail by owl post. But Uncle Vernon's face still frequently swelled and flushed red as a tomato as he glared at Harry, since he could do nothing else. And Dudley was so frightened of Harry now that he stayed out with his friends all day long, which Harry, naturally, didn't mind in the slightest. 

There was only one problem, Harry couldn't enjoy any of it. He should have been happy, but he wasn't. He was less isolated at the Dursleys than ever before. He attended Occlumency lessons every week at Mrs. Figg's house and there were always Order of the Phoenix members there to protect him. Usually Lupin would greet him, but sometimes Tonks or Moody. Harry had never before had such close contact with the wizarding world in Little Whinging. Yet he had never felt so lonely in his life. 

In fact, Harry could feel nothing but loneliness. He had lost the ability to feel other emotions. Last year, he was emotional constantly, but now he could feel nothing. If more dementors came, there would be nothing left for them to take from him. He already felt as though the dementors had sucked his soul and he was left only with pain and grief. Sirius was gone.   


Harry hadn't even had the chance to say goodbye and he still didn't understand what had happened. What was behind the veil? Why did it kill Sirius? Why would the Ministry have something like that out in the open and raised on a platform?   


Harry tormented himself night and day with these questions. If only he had found the mirror from Sirius earlier. If only he had studied Occlumency harder. If only he had listened to Hermione and not believed Kreacher. If only he had used a Time-Turner – this was the most persistent thought running through his head since returning to the Dursleys. 

Harry had passed a whole room of Time-Turners in the Department of Mysteries and never once thought to use them. He had been too absorbed in his grief and thoughts of revenge at the time to think. And now it was too late. According to Hermione, the Time-Turners could not go further back in time than a few hours. 

For the first time in his life, Harry found himself without hope. And without hope, he didn't know what to live for. Part of him wished that Voldemort had killed him, so that he could join Sirius and his parents behind the veil. So that he wouldn't have to live with the knowledge that any loving family he had ever had was taken from him. 

Yet, at the same time, Harry knew he had to live through his pain. If the prophecy was true, then only one person could stop Voldemort and that was him. He longed for Neville to be the "one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord," but he knew better. He had been marked by Voldemort and he had been the one to remove the prophecy from the shelf, so he had to be the subject of the prophecy, as much as he hated the thought of it. He had an obligation to see it through. 

Knowing his obligation was the only thing that motivated him enough to leave the comfort of self-isolation in his bedroom to attend his weekly Occlumency lesson. Every Wednesday evening after dinner, Harry went to Mrs. Figg's house for lessons. He never told the Dursleys where he was going and they never asked him. In fact they had ignored him as much as possible. He supposed it was easier for them to pretend he didn't exist than to be nice to him. 

Harry tried to clear his head of all of the feelings of guilt and self-loathing that had been drowning him as he walked down Privet Drive. He had become much better at Occlumency once he knew how important it really was, but Snape still managed to see his thoughts occasionally. But Harry was determined to block Snape completely tonight, the last thing he wanted was to give Snape any pleasure from his pain. He crossed Wisteria Walk and approached Mrs. Figg's porch where a tabby cat was sitting by the door. 

"Hello Mr. Tibbles," Harry called as he reached down to pet the cat, but his hand stopped in mid air. "Wait, you're not-," he paused, "Professor McGonagall?" 

At that moment, the door opened and the cat sped into the house brushing past Mrs. Figg. Harry looked after it with confusion. 

"Come in, Harry dear, quickly," Mrs. Figg said nervously as she glanced down the street. 

Harry followed her into the house and closed the door behind him. As soon as he turned around, he saw the stern form of Professor McGonagall come striding out of the adjacent room.. 

"Potter, are you ready for your Occlumency lesson?" she said sharply, acting as though there was nothing unusual about the situation in the slightest. 

"But…but Professor Snape-" Harry questioned in surprise. Professor Snape continued to teach him Occlumency, despite his objections, because there was simply no better teacher available. The risk was still too great for Dumbledore to teach him and even if he could, Dumbledore was too busy with the Order of the Phoenix. But there was no question in anyone's minds after the events at the Ministry, that Harry did need to master Occlumency and that it was of the utmost importance in the fight against Voldemort. 

"Professor Snape could not be here this evening. He had other obligations for the Order. Surely you don't object to me?" she said sternly. 

"No, I'm just surprised. You know Occlumency, Professor?" 

"Certainly I am familiar with it, Potter, but my skills are nothing compared to Professor Snape's. Which is why we are not going to practice Occlumency this evening, instead we will be discussing it in theory. Now come along, I don't have all night," she said as she walked into the living room. Harry followed and closed the doors behind them. 

McGonagall settled herself on an old pale blue sofa and motioned for Harry to do so as well. "I have something for you, Potter, and I wanted to deliver it personally," she said with a curious look in her eye. 

She handed him an envelope with the familiar green handwriting and the Hogwarts seal. Harry accepted it and gave McGonagall a quizzical look. 

"Your O.W.L. results of course," she said. Harry's heart plummeted and he was very glad he was sitting down. He slowly and reluctantly slid open the envelope as he wondered why McGonagall was here. Did she come to tell him he wouldn't be able to take her Advanced Transfiguration classes? Or worse, did he do so poorly that he couldn't return to Hogwarts? 

Harry pulled out the piece of parchment and closed his eyes, silently praying that the results wouldn't be that horrible. He forced his eyes open and stared at the parchment in front of him. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, his eyes grew wide with shock. 

_  
Dear Mr. Potter,_

_Congratulations! We are proud to announce that you have passed seven Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations. Your results are in the 85th percentile of your class, a remarkable achievement._

_Here are your results from the exams of last June:_

_Transfiguration - **O**utstanding_   
_Potions - **E**xceeds Expectations_   
_Charms - **E**xceeds Expectations_   
_Defense Against the Dark Arts - **O**utstanding_   
_Care of Magical Creatures - **O**utstanding_   
_Herbology - **E**xceeds Expectations_   
_History of Magic - **D**readful_   
_Astronomy - **A**cceptable_   
_Divination_ - _**P**oor_

_We hope that this success will continue in your further education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Griselda Marchbanks_   
_Wizarding__ Examinations Authority_   
_Ministry of Magic_   


Harry had expected the horrid grades in History of Magic and Divination and he hadn't even expected to pass Astronomy after all that had happened during those exams. But nothing could have possibly prepared him for the wonderful grades that he had received in the other classes. Certainly, he had expected an _O_ in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but he was just hoping to get a passing grade in the other classes. 

Harry looked up to see Professor McGonagall positively beaming at him. 

"Congratulations are in order, Potter! You're well on your way to becoming an Auror," she said with obvious pride.   


"But you said I need a NEWT in Potions and I didn't get an _O_–" 

"No matter, you scored an _E_ and a very high one at that. You've scored well enough, since I managed to convince Professor Snape to accept you into his NEWT classes." 

"But how?" 

"I have my ways," she said mysteriously. " Besides I promised that I would help you become an Auror if it's the last thing I do, and I always keep my promises, Potter." 

"I don't know how to thank you, Professor." Truthfully, Harry didn't know whether to thank her or curse her for having to spend two more years in Potions with Snape. 

"Just promise me that you'll concentrate in Potions and that you'll come to me if you ever have any trouble with the class or Professor Snape. This is not a free ride, Potter. I expect you to work hard towards your goal and, hopefully, someday you will be well rewarded." 

"Yes, Professor." 

"On with our Occlumency lessons then, shall we?" 

* * * * * 

Two hours later, the lessons were finally over and Harry felt as tired and drained as if he had just left one of Professor Binns' classes. Occlumency theory was anything but exciting. When he opened the living room doors, Lupin was waiting for him. Every night after Occlumency lessons, a member of the Order of the Phoenix would walk him back to the Dursleys, and Harry was very glad when it was Lupin. No one wanted a repeat of last summer's incident with the dementors, so Dumbledore made sure they never risked anything. 

"Harry," Lupin said, getting to his feet, "have you had a good lesson then?" He rubbed his hands together and looked a bit nervous. 

"Um, it was all right, I suppose," Harry lied, trying to sound cheerful. 

After saying goodbye to Mrs. Figg and Professor McGonagall, they walked silently out of the house to the corner of Wisteria Walk. 

"Harry, I know that you're…that you're not happy. And I can't say that I am either. We both lost a great friend in Sirius." 

Harry walked on in silence, biting back the aching feeling at the back of his throat. "He was more than a friend," he finally said bitterly. "He was my godfather, he was…family." Now the ache in his throat was accompanied by a sore pressure around his eyes that threatened to burst at any moment. 

"He was family to me too, Harry," Lupin replied somberly. 

Harry knew he should see Lupin's point of view, but all he could feel was bitterness and all he could think about was his own loss and how much it hurt. Bitterness turned to rage. "Do you know what I see when I look into the Mirror of Erised? Did Dumbledore tell you?" Harry said angrily. "I see my family, my parents, my grandparents, everyone who has been lost to me. The greatest desire in my heart is for a family and just when I thought I might have that, it was taken from me. And…and it's my fault." Harry looked away as silent tears fell down his cheeks. 

Lupin stopped and turned Harry towards him, gripping his shoulders. Harry resisted and turned his head down and away, not willing to let Lupin see the tears, the tears that he had never dared to shed before Sirius's death, but had many times since. "Harry, look at me," Lupin said, waiting for Harry to catch his eyes. "It is not your fault. Wizards far wiser and older than you have been fooled by Voldemort. You were not the first and you won't be the last." 

They walked on silently side by side for a minute. "You know," Lupin began, "I lost my only family in Sirius too…and my only friend. People don't choose to be friends with werewolves you know. They're all afraid I'll transform them," Lupin laughed bitterly."I felt so lucky to have James and Sirius and Peter." He paused and looked up at the crescent moon. "I was so grateful to have friends that I let James and Sirius get away with much more than I should have so many times." Lupin dropped his head staring at the path in front of them and sighed, "I miss them both terribly." 

Harry was touched that Lupin was being so open with him. He felt at once pity and guilt. After all, he, Harry, had many friends who cared about him. Friends who had braved many perils for him. 

"I'm your friend, Professor Lupin," Harry said quietly, feeling rather stupid as soon as the words were said. 

Lupin laughed slightly, "If I'm your friend Harry, you'll have to start calling me Remus, I'm not your professor anymore and it's rather doubtful that I ever will be again." 

"Well, you should be. You were the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had." 

"Ah, but look at who you're comparing me with. I don't know if that's too much of a compliment, Harry," Remus teased, but he was obviously pleased.

"You know what I mean," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"Actually, I hear that you are quite the defense teacher yourself. Where do you think you will go with the D.A., Harry?" 

"I dunno. We won't really need it this year, will we? I mean, now that Umbridge is gone and all. Hopefully, this year's teacher will actually let us practice defensive spells." 

"Well, even if you do, I don't think you should give it up, Harry. To survive what you have, you obviously have a great deal of talent in defensive magic and you may yet save more than a few lives by teaching those skills to others." 

Harry nodded his head in response as they approached Privet Drive. It was late now and the street was dark and deserted. Lupin looked nervous again for some reason and his pace slowed down. 

Lupin looked at him intently and finally spoke. "Harry, there's something I need to tell you and I've waited too long to say it. You see, last summer, Sirius asked me to take care of you if anything ever happened to him. He wanted me to become your guardian in his place. I… I know I could never replace Sirius or your parents, but I would like to honor his wishes and I would be proud to take on that role. How do you feel about that?" he asked hesitantly. 

"So I could live with you if I can ever leave the Dursleys?" 

"Yes, but it's more than that.Harry. I hope you'll confide in me, like you did with Sirius. And I'd watch out for you and protect you, as Sirius and your parents would have done." 

"Just don't die on me," Harry said seriously and quietly, not quite willing to look Remus in the eyes. 

Remus pulled him into a hug. "It will be all right, Harry," he replied earnestly. Remus wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulder as they walked the rest of the way to the Dursleys. 

"So, how are they treating you?" Remus asked, nodding towards number four Privet Drive.   


"All right, I s'pose, they're mostly ignoring me. At least they're not yelling or worse. Hard to believe these are the same people who locked me in a cupboard for ten years." 

Lupin grimaced. "I understand why Dumbledore wants you to stay with them, but I can't say I agree. At least you only have to put up with them for two more days." 

"What?" Harry asked in shock. 

Remus smiled at Harry's surprise. "Well, Dumbledore said we could pick you up on Friday night, in time for your birthday. I thought you'd like to spend your birthday in the wizarding world this year." 

"When do we leave?" Harry asked anxiously. 

"We'll pick you up after dinner on Friday. Have your bags packed and ready." 

"I will," Harry replied, giving Remus the first genuine smile that had passed his lips for some weeks. "See you Friday," Harry said as he walked up to the front door. 

"Goodbye, Harry," Remus replied fondly, waiting for Harry to open the door before he Disapparated.   


Harry crept quietly in the house and soundlessly closed the door behind him. He didn't want to wake the Dursleys who usually went to bed about an hour earlier. But as he tiptoed up the stairs, he heard sounds coming from the adjoining room. Creeping down to the third step, he inched closer to the wall separating him from the living room. He breathed shallowly, making himself as quiet as possible as he strained to listen more closely. Someone was watching the television and listening to the late news. 

"_In other news, police are baffled by reports of twelve bodies found across Britain. Authorities have yet to find any sign of disease or foul play. Autopsies have yielded no results, but in every case, the coroner has reported a look of terror on the face of the deceased. Authorities are currently suspecting a new virus, but they have yet to find a link in this horrifying case._" 

Harry's heart skipped a beat. So it had started. Voldemort was back and the deaths had begun in earnest. Harry was about to go back up the stairs to send a letter off to Ron and Hermione, but froze immediately when he heard his aunt's voice carry over from the other side of the wall. 

"That was no disease," she said. 

"What was that, Petunia dear?" Uncle Vernon said. 

"Vernon, that's the way _they_ were found.That's the way my parents looked when I found them." Harry had never heard anything about his grandparents. He took another step down, inching even closer towards the voices. 

"The boy may be telling the truth, Vernon. He may be back." 

"Who? That Lord what's-his-name?" 

"Yes," Petunia hissed seriously, "Voldemort." 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

_Hope you enjoyed the first chapter, there is much more to come. There will be many more revelations about Harry's past. Next chapter will have a lot of interaction with the Dursleys and things will really get interesting when Harry returns to Grimmauld Place. _

  



	2. Ch 2: Petunia's Past

Harry Potter and the Forbidden Passage__

_Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling and I do not own the wonderful world of Harry Potter.  I am merely borrowing the characters to amuse myself and answer all of my questions in response to Order of the __Phoenix__ as I await Book 6.___

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**Chapter 2: Petunia's Past**

"But you said your parents died in a fire," Uncle Vernon said.

"Well, I never wanted to face what really happened," Petunia said. "It was too...strange. the house was destroyed but their bodies were completely intact. They were not burned although the house had crashed down around them. No one could determine what killed them exactly, but they did look terrified. And I knew, I just knew this had to be because of her and her kind. Their deaths were not...not natural. 

"Vernon, I'm frightened. What if he's after the boy?"

"We'll chuck the boy out. I'll not have him putting my family in danger."

"We can't Vernon. We can't. He'll kill the boy."

"Better him than us," Vernon snapped back.

"We won't be safe either if we throw him out," Petunia said evasively. "The last warning," she muttered. Harry thought of the howler Dumbledore sent Petunia last year. "Remember my last, Petunia!" it had said.

"What?" Uncle Vernon asked.

"The letter- the letter that came with Harry, it gave a warning. It said that my sister sacrificed herself to save her son and that put some kind of protection over him and our home while he's staying here. But if he ever leaves permanently that protection will vanish."

"So the boy won't be protected," Uncle Vernon said dismissively. "He's almost 16, he can handle himself."

"Vernon, you don't understand, it's not just the boy. Oh it's too terrible to say," Petunia sobbed.

"What Petunia? What is it?" Vernon demanded.

"We...we won't be protected either. The man who killed my sister and...and probably my parents will come after all of us and the protection over our home will vanish. The boy has to stay here for _our_ safety, for _Dudley__'s_ safety."

"Why would this mad man want to kill us?"

"He killed my parents, didn't he? Why would he want to kill them?" Petunia said bitterly.

At that moment, the stair creaked under Harry's right foot as he stepped down to listen closer.

"Who's there?" Vernon roared just before he appeared around the corner in front of Harry, who at that moment had never wished more for his apparition license.

"Oh, it's you boy. And what do you think you're doing? Listening to our private conversation?" Vernon accused as his face reddened with anger.

"N-No," Harry said a little too hastily. "I was, uh, just coming back."

"Back from where?"

"Um, just walking around a bit."

"You will not be leaving this house again until you leave for that...that school. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry replied quickly. Aunt Petunia had now appeared at Vernon's side and was looking at Harry with red-rimmed eyes.

Harry suddenly felt a compulsion to do something he'd never done before. Perhaps it was his talk with Remus, perhaps it was because he finally understood why his aunt hated wizards, but in that moment, he hugged his aunt for this first time in his life. She stiffened immediately but to Harry's surprise, he felt her relax for a moment before he let go. 

"Well, uh, good night," Harry said awkwardly before he started back up the stairs, leaving his aunt and uncle silently staring at him in shock. Harry turned around at the top of the stairs, seeing an opportunity. "Oh, uh, by the way, I'll be leaving in two days for the rest of the summer. Some people will come for me after dinner," he said quickly. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were still in so much shock that they couldn't reply before he had disappeared into his bedroom.

* * * * * 

The next morning Harry awoke to a horrifying nightmare inducing sight. Dudley Dursley was standing over his bed.

"Wha- What is it?" Harry stammered alarmed as he put on his glasses.

"You were doing it again," Dudley grinned.

"Doing what?" Harry asked thoroughly annoyed.

"Screaming a boy's name. This time you called him Sirius. That your new boyfriend?" Dudley cackled.

"Oh shut up, Dudley," Harry yelled pulling a pillow over his head.

"No wonder you like boys. What girl would ever go out with a four-eyed weirdo like you?" Dudley teased maliciously.

Harry sprang up and glowered at Dudley. "I think you've got that reversed. The real question is what girl would go out with a slothful pig like you?" Harry yelled back. "And for your information, I did have a girlfriend last year and I kissed her which is more than you can say I'm sure." He continued, "I scream in my sleep because I have seen horrors that you could never begin to imagine. I swear if you ever say another word about it, I'll turn you into the fat pig you are and you know I can do it."

"You can't do that here, they'll expel you," Dudley answered gleefully.

"That's true, there are restrictions on underage magic, but only till I'm seventeen, then all bets are off. So if you don't want another tail in a year, I suggest you leave me alone," Harry said forcefully rising to his full height, which was now several inches taller than Dudley.

Dudley almost stumbled as he practically ran out of the room whimpering.

Harry knew that he would probably have to pay for that outburst but he just didn't care. He was depressed again. Dudley was right, he had dreamt about Sirius last night, as he did every night. Every night since that horrible day in June, his mind had taken him to the Department of Mysteries and he would see Sirius falling over and over through the veil. The nightmares were slowly and effctively torturing him. As soon as he got back to Hogwarts, Harry planned to ask Madame Pomfrey for a dreamless sleep potion.

And then on top of all of that to have Dudley criticizing his love life was too much. Harry sighed as the thought of what a mess he had made with Cho. He had totally screwed up the relationship that he had wanted for two years. And now she had moved on to Ginny's ex of all people. But Harry found oddly that it didn't really matter anymore to him. Girls didn't seem all that important when evil wizards wanted to kill you. The whole Cho thing seemed so trivial now. The truth was once Harry got to know her, they really had nothing in common other than Quidditch. She was too girly and boring for his taste, as pretty as she was. Even Ginny had more in common with him.

In fact, Ginny had quite a bit in common with him if he thought about it. Ginny was really something else this year now that she had come out of her shell. It was unbelieveable how Ron's shy little sister had suddenly become a brave independent prankster with a real knack for quidditch. She would make a great addition to the Gryffindor quidditch team next season. Harry made a mental note to talk to her about joining the team when he saw her tomorrow. Tomorrow! Harry's heart skipped a beat a the thought of it. One more day and he could leave the Dursleys for another year.

"BOY! GET DOWN HERE!" Aunt Petunia's angry voice carried loudly up the stairs.

Harry pounded his fist into his pillow, muttering under his breath, "Dudley you prat, can't you keep your bloody mouth shut for once."

Harry reluctantly got out of bed and rushed downstairs to the kitchen where his was waiting, tapping her foot.

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Umm...about what?," Harry feigned innocence.

"You know very well what. What was that display last night and what's this about you leaving tomorrow?" she demanded.

Harry's eyes narrowed with confusion and looked at Dudley. Dudley was holding his hand over his mouth obviously trying to suppress laughter. He obviously knew Harry thought he had tattled.

"You did hear us, didn't you?" Petunia asked angrily.

"Yes, alright, yes, I heard all of it. But why didn't you tell me before? WHY IS EVERYTHING KEPT SECRET FROM ME?" Harry shouted back.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that boy. You're lucky we've kept a roof over your head. You heard us last night, you heard the story, do you think I really want to remember it? As far as I'm concerned, my parents would still be alive if it weren't for your kind," Petunia yelled back fiercely. "As it is, we're stuck with you, so you will not be leaving this house."

"Try to stop me," Harry retorted. "But don't worry, I don't have a choice either, so I will be returning next summer. You will all be safe thanks to _my_ _mother_." Harry knew at once that he had gone too far. Aunt Petunia looked more frightening than Harry could ever remember. She looked like she was ready to strangle him. But he was saved from her wrath by the arrival of a brown owl that swooped in and dropped a letter at his feet.

"How many times do I have to tell you? NO OWLS IN THE KITCHEN!" Petunia shrieked.

"I can't help it," Harry said as he picked up the letter and slid it open.

_Harry,_

_There has been a change of plan. I'll come and pick you up tonight instead. Something has come up, I'll explain later. I'll apparate in at __five o'clock__. I'd like to talk to your aunt and uncle while I'm there, so you might warn them._

_See you soon,_

_Moony_

"Well, what is it?" Petunia asked sharply.

"I'm leaving today at five instead of tomorrow. My uh...godfather is picking me up and he'd like to talk to you."

Petunia looked horrified and Dudley had nearly fallen over in his seat.

"The murderer? You invited him to our home?" she cried in horror.

Harry sighed, "No, and he was never a murderer, he was falsely charged. He was...he was killed in June by one of Voldemort's supporters. The man coming tonight is named Remus Lupin, he was a friend of my parents."

"How is he coming?" Petunia asked with raised eyebrows.

"Oh, he's just popping in," Harry said with a grin. "I'd better go and pack." Harry turned around and sprinted up the stairs before Petunia could say another word.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Harry's room was a complete disaster. He just hadn't cared about anything and that included having a neat room. Clothes and books were scattered everywhere. As he opened his trunk, he found that it was practically empty. The only things left in it were the Firebolt he had been unable to use since Dumbledore returned it to him and the shattered mirror Sirius had given him. Harry picked up the shattered bits of mirror and put them in a bag, reminding himself to ask Remus to fix it. Harry deeply regretted breaking the last gift Sirius had given him. It hurt too much to realize he would never be able to speak to Sirius again. If only there was some way to communicate with the dead. If only he could just know that Sirius was alright somewhere out there.

But maybe...maybe there was a way to speak to the dead. After all, he had heard the voices hadn't he? Luna said she could hear the dead through the veil. If he could go back to the Ministry and find the veil, maybe he could talk to Sirius again and... and even his parents. If they were together, maybe Sirius would be happy to be with his best friend again. "I've got to know," Harry thought in frustration, "I've got to know what happened to him."

Harry packed the rest of his things carefully and waited impatiently for Remus as he tried to think of reasons to go to the Ministry. He could ask Mr. Weasley to show him more of the Ministry, saying that he was looking into various careers. He could ask Tonks to show him Auror Headquarters. He could say he was visiting Neville and go to the Ministry instead. But that wouldn't work. Harry realized with disappointment that several Order members would be accompanying him wherever he went.

Well he would find some way to get to the Ministry. And he would find out what happened to Sirius. He had to.

Harry put Hedwig in her cage and carried it downstairs placing the cage by the front door. Then he dragged the trunk down while Dudley watched amused as he struggled with the heavy object. Harry sat down on the trunk and looked nervously between the door and the living room where his aunt and uncle were waiting, sitting far from the fireplace this time. Harry wondered where Remus would appear when he heard a small "crack" near the door, only loud enough for him to hear.

"Harry," Remus whispered in greeting next to him.

"They're waiting for you," Harry said nodding towards the living room. "Good luck." Harry led him into the room to face his aunt and uncle who were staring somewhat skeptically at Lupin's faded jeans and worn old shirt.

"Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, this is um Professor Lupin," Harry said quickly, hoping that adding professor would make them think better of Lupin.

"Mr. Dursley," Lupin said in greeting, offering his hand. Uncle Vernon frowned and scoffed and did not offer his hand in return.

Lupin raised his eyebrows but turned to Petunia. "Petunia," he said kindly, "How nice to see you again."

Petunia shot him a quizzical look.

"Oh perhaps you don't remember? We met at James and Lily's wedding. I was one of James's groomsmen."

Harry noticed Uncle Vernon's face contorting at the mention of his parents.

Petunia stiffened and replied, "Er... of course."

Lupin turned to Harry, "Harry, I'd like to speak with your aunt and uncle alone for a moment."

"But...but-"

"Harry, please, just for a moment," Lupin said sternly, leaving no room for questions.

Harry shot Lupin a confused look and scowled as he walked towards the door. He waited by his trunk wishing he had one of Fred and George's extendable ears.

A half hour later, Lupin emerged.

"Well, ready to go then? You take Hedwig, I'll grab the trunk," Lupin said hastily.

"But what happened?"

Lupin ignored his question. "Take hold of this," Lupin said as he pulled out an ordinary looking playing card from his pocket. "One...two...three."

Harry instantly felt the nauseous effects of a portkey. And a second later, he was stumbling onto the floor of the kitchen in #12 Grimmauld Place.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

_Hope you enjoyed the second chapter. There are many surprises to come in the next chapter as Harry returns to the wizarding world and life at __Grimmauld Place__.  
  
Much thanks goes to my sister for her assistance with this chapter. I had a terrible time trying to write the Dursleys, so if you didn't care for this chapter, I assure you the next ones will be better._


	3. Ch 3: Return to Grimmauld Place

**Harry Potter and the Forbidden Passage**  


_Disclaimer: Thanks to J.K. Rowling for creating the wonderful world of Harry Potter from which I am borrowing characters, places, ideas, and thematic elements.  
_

_Enjoy and review!_

_-Cendrillon_  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  


**Chapter 3: Return to Grimmauld Place**  


"I thought you weren't allowed to make unauthorized portkeys," Harry said as he picked himself up off the kitchen floor, still reeling from the effects of his least favorite type of wizarding transportation.   


"Well, it's not unauthorized," Remus answered. "The Ministry has to work with the Order now that they know Voldemort is back. Fudge has been under a lot of scrutiny lately for his statements last year. There has even been talk of electing a new Minister," Remus said as he flicked his wand at the trunk and cage and levitated them up the stairs as he and Harry walked behind.  


Harry looked around as they walked through the large house. "Something's changed," he said curiously. Then he realized the house elf heads were gone. "What did you do with them?" Harry asked nodding towards the empty wall.  


"Buried them properly of course."  


"I'll bet Kreacher was furious. Where is he anyways?" Harry said with a glower, looking around and expecting to see the traitorous elf lurking about some corner.   


"Kreacher is gone, Harry."  


"What do you mean gone?"  


"He's gone. He left when there were no more Blacks left to serve. We don't know where he went, but Dumbledore suspects he's gone to Bellatrix. You remember how he treasured that photograph of her."  


"Aren't you worried he'll reveal things about the Order?"  


"Even if he did, with Dumbledore as secret keeper, no one could find this place. Although, to be safe, everyone is using portkeys to transport in and out of this house. Dumbledore obliviated Kreacher's memories, and cursed him after he learned of Kreacher's betrayal. If Kreacher speaks even a single word about anyone or anything in this house, he will be petrified."  
  
They had reached the hallway of portraits, only there were no portraits, not a single one. And in the place where Mrs. Black's portrait had been, there was a new brick wall.   


"Ahhyes, you won't be seeing Mrs. Black again either. In a fit of rage last April, Sirius decided to build that wall over the portrait," Lupin explained. "Here we are, Harry." They had stopped outside a room that Harry had never seen before.  


"But this isn't the room I stayed in last year," Harry said as Lupin opened the door.  


"I thought you might like your own room now. This was Sirius's room, I hope you don't mind."  


They walked into a surprisingly bright room. The bottom half of the wall had wooden panels with elaborate Venetian designs of inlaid veneer while the top half of the wall was painted red with gold trim. There was no doubt that the occupant of this room had lived in Gryffindor. In the middle of the room there was a dark mahogany four poster bed with red velvet drapes. It reminded Harry very much of his Gryffindor dormitory. Most of the far wall was taken up by three tall diamond-paned windows. There was a large bureau on the left side of the bed and a small table on the right. Against the opposite wall stood a full-length mirror and a large wardrobe. To the side of the wardrobe were, oddly, two sets of bronze hands sticking out of the wall.   


"What are those?" Harry asked with apprehension.   


"They're not real, just a joke. Sirius always liked weird things like this, anything to make us laugh. Here, open your trunk and I'll show you what they're for."  


Harry did as requested and Lupin pulled out the Firebolt. He handed the broom to the open hands, which immediately grabbed it, much to Harry's surprise. "See, broomstick holders."  


"Weird," Harry muttered. Lupin laughed.  


Harry turned around and saw several photographs hanging on the wall next to the door. He stepped closer to inspect them.  


The first photograph showed three teenage boys laughing and smiling in a familiar stone corridor. Harry recognized the fifteen-year-old faces of his father, Sirius, and Remus. He could also see why they were so amused when the boys moved aside long enough for Harry to see the background. Behind them stood the statue of the one-eyed witch- they had just returned from Honeydukes.   


The next photograph was larger and showed a very handsome, twenty something Sirius looking down with adoration at an newborn baby cradled in his arms.  


"That's you, Harry," Remus said fondly. "James had just named him godfather. I could almost swear that Sirius was more excited by your birth than your father."  


Harry's heart gave a little lurch as he once again realized how much he had lost in Sirius. He quickly turned to the last picture and stared in shock as he realized what he was seeing.  


It was a picture of his parent's wedding, but unlike any he had seen before. This wasn't just a picture of his parents, this was the entire wedding party. His parents stood in the middle holding hands and occasionally looking lovingly at each other. On either side of them was an older couple. The man on his father's right was wearing glasses and had thick dark hair, just like Harry's, while the slender woman next to him tried to smooth down James's unkempt hair. The woman to Lily's left had red hair that was just beginning to turn gray and the man next to her had Harry's bright green eyes. These were his grandparents, people he had never seen before except in the Mirror of Erised. And beside Lily's parents stood his Aunt Petunia, looking much younger and prettier but very unhappy. She continuously glared at her sister while her parents beamed at Lily with obvious love and pride. On James's side, Harry saw Sirius and Remus with a burnt out hole beside them in the shape of a person. That must have been Peter Pettigrew, Harry thought with disgust.  
  
"Why didn't anyone ever show me this?" Harry asked with a touch of anger in his voice. Here all along had been a picture of his family - the grandparents he had never known and no one had bothered to tell him about it.   


"I don't know Harry, maybe Sirius thought it might upset you. I doesn't matter anymore, it's yours now," Lupin answered. "And much more may be yours tomorrow," Lupin muttered.  


"What?" Harry said turning to Lupin. "What does that mean?"  


"_That_ is the reason I had to bring you here tonight. Harry, tomorrow morning, we have been summoned to go to the Ministry for the reading of Sirius's will."  


"He had a will?"  


"All of the members of the Order have a will. They know their lives are in danger, that any of us could die at any time. Not that I have anything to give mind you."  


"But why are they reading it so long after-"  


"Well we couldn't exactly prove his death, could we? The Ministry didn't even want to acknowledge his innocence. Dumbledore finally convinced them of both last week."  


A thought occurred to Harry, "Did my parents have a will? They were in the Order."  


"No," Lupin said quietly, "They were so young, Harry, they didn't plan to die. They had already crossed paths with Voldemort several times and survived. I suppose James always thought of himself as rather invincible, but then don't we all at that age? It didn't matter though, naturally all that they had went to you. Of course, the house was gone, but I'm not sure if anything within it was left. Dumbledore immediately took charge of you after their deaths, he would have kept in trust any property that was left to you." Well that explained how Dumbledore had acquired his father's invisibility cloak. But was there anything else? Was Dumbledore still keeping items of his parents?  


"Do you know what's in the will?" Harry asked absently, still thinking about his parent's lost possessions.  


"No, I only know that you and I are supposed to be there at 8 o'clock tomorrow morning to find out. It's getting late, why don't you get settled here and meet me downstairs for dinner soon."  


A short time later, they were sitting down to a feast for two in the humungous dining room. The table was filled with all sorts of wonderful food, it was almost better than a Hogwarts feast.  


"Wow, Remus, this food is really good," Harry said as he drained a tall glass of pumpkin juice.  


"It is good, isn't it? Yes, the food has gotten much better here this summer," Lupin said with a smirk.   


Harry thought now would be a good time to squeeze in the question that had been bugging him for several hours."So what did you talk to the Dursleys about?" Harry said quickly in a casual voice hoping to catch Lupin off guard.   


"I think you'd better go to bed now Harry. We have an early day tomorrow."  


"Are you ever going to tell me?"  


"No," Lupin answered calmly but with a small grin. "So you might as well stop asking."  


Harry scowled but asked the other question that had bothered him,"Where is everyone?"   


"Now that the Ministry knows Voldemort is back, things have been quite busy. Voldemort's not hiding like he did last year and activity has been picking up. Not too many have been lingering at Headquarters anymore.  


"But what about the Weasleys? I thought they'd be here?"  


"Staying at the Burrow, but they're coming by the end of the summer." Harry heart sank and he had to struggle to hide his disappointment. He was really hoping to see his friends, to have someone to distract him from his grief and nightmares - but now he was surrounded by reminders of Sirius. He was living in his dead godfather's home, his only company was a man just as grief stricken as him, and tomorrow he would be hearing the last will and testament of Sirius Black. Suddenly the Dursleys' house wasn't looking all that bad in comparison.

* * * * *  
  
_Next Chapter: The Last Will and Testament of Sirius Black_

_If you review, please tell me if there is anything specific that you like about this story. It will help me as I write the next chapters. Also, tell me whether you'd prefer weekly updates of a shorter length like this or biweekly of a longer length like the first chapter. I have uploaded several chapters this week but that will not be the regular interval between chapters since all future chapters have yet to be written. _  



	4. Ch 4: The Last Will and Testament of Sir...

**Harry Potter and the Forbidden Passage**

_Disclaimer: You know the drill - Harry Potter and co. belong to J.K. Rowling, not me. _

* * *

**Chapter 4: The Last Will and Testament of Sirius Black **

Harry awoke the next morning to the sounds of someone knocking on the door.

"I'll be right there, Aunt Petunia," Harry groaned with his eyes still closed. But upon feeling the velvet cover over him, Harry sat bolt upright, only remembering where he was when he opened his eyes and saw Sirius staring back at him from the picture frame on the wall.

"Harry," Lupin's muffled voice called from the other side of the door, "Wake up! We have to be at the Ministry in half an hour."

"I'll be there in a minute," Harry called back as he jumped out of the tall bed. He rushed to get dressed, putting on the new clothes the Dursleys had bought him, and ran downstairs.

After a very quick but surprisingly good breakfast, they used a portkey to travel to the Ministry of Magic.

"We're late," Lupin said with frustration, "We have to go to the 2nd floor for the Department of Property Allotment." They rushed through security and arrived a few minutes later at a small office with wood paneling. Dumbledore, Tonks, Arthur Weasley, and a short balding wizard Harry didn't recognize were seated at a round table. Lupin and Harry nodded in greeting to everyone and took the seats between Tonks and Mr. Weasley. Mr. Weasley caught Harry's eye and gave him an encouraging smile.

The balding man stood up and greeted them, "Mr. Lupin I presume and, of course, Mr. Potter," he said shaking their hands. "Alfred Dunster. I'm with the Department of Property Allotment and will be handling the distribution of Mr. Black's estate."

Mr. Dunster closed the door, sat back down, and rifled through some papers before looking back up at them all. "Well, now that we're all here," he said in a business-like tone, "we can get started. You have all been invited this morning because you were named as beneficiaries in the last will and testament of Sirius Nigellus Black. If you are all prepared, we will now proceed with the reading of the will."

Mr. Dunster pulled out a folded piece of parchment with Sirius's handwriting and placed it in the middle of the table. He held his wand to the paper and said, "Recitas."

Harry's heart temporarily stopped and he nearly fell off his chair as Sirius's voice filled the room.

"_I, Sirius Nigellus Black, of London, England, do make and declare my last will and testament as follows:_" Harry felt a raw ache in the back of his throat upon hearing Sirius's voice again, a sound he had longed for more than any other since that fateful night at the Ministry.

"_To my cousin, Arthur William Weasley, I leave fifteen thousand Galleons._" Mr. Weasley let in a sharp intake of breath and coughed. "I...I never expected...," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

"_To my cousin, Nymphadora Andromeda Tonks, I leave fifteen thousand Galleons, as well as the Black family silver._" Tonks sniffed and spoke quietly, "Why would he do that for me? We had only known each other for a year."

Harry would have liked to answer, "Because you were one of the few family members he respected," but he said nothing because words were too difficult to speak right now.

"_To Professor Albus Dumbledore, I leave an item that I believe he will find useful. It is contained within a locked gold box engraved with my name and stored in my Gringott's vault. The key to the box is enclosed with this will_." Mr. Dunster quietly passed a small golden key to Dumbledore, who looked at it with curiosity and a slight twinkle in his eyes. This was no time for Dumbledore's eyes to twinkle, Harry thought with annoyance.

"_Finally_," Sirius's voice continued more slowly and turned much more somber than before, "_my debts and legacies being satisfied, the rest and residue of all my estate, real and personal, not herein expressly disposed of, and including the Black family home, will be shared evenly between my godson, Harry James Potter, and my friend, Remus John Lupin. Should any of the beneficiaries of my estate predecease me without surviving spouses or descendents, their inheritance will go directly to Harry James Potter._" Harry felt numb, he did not know what he expected, but his heart screamed that he would rather have Sirius back than all the money in the world.

"_I would have my body buried next to James and Lily Potter with as little expense or ceremony as may be. I revoke all former wills by me made, declaring this only to be my last_." Well, he would never get that wish, they would never have his body to bury. There would never be the kind of resolution that most people could experience with a funeral.

"_In witness thereof, I have hereunto set my hand and seal, this third day of March, in the year one thousand nine hundred and ninety-six_."

The room fell uncomfortably silent as Sirius's voice ceased. Harry was caught in that horrible state he had found himself in before. He morbidly wanted to hear Sirius's voice again even if it was reading his final will. He felt the same awful sense of loss as when he no longer heard his parents' frightened voices after facing a dementor.

Mr. Dunster folded up the parchment on the table and stood up. "Mr. Weasley, Ms. Tonks, Professor Dumbledore, your inheritance will be sent directly to your Gringott's vaults. Mr. Potter, Mr. Lupin," Dunster said turning to them, "you will follow me to Gringott's where we will oversee the division of the remains of the estate."

Everyone stood up and said their farewells in turn. Mr. Weasley and Tonks both hugged Harry before leaving. Harry noticed suspiciously as Tonks hugged him that Lupin was having a whispered conversation with Dumbledore. Soon only Lupin, Harry, and Mr. Dunster remained.

"This way," Mr. Dunster said, urging Lupin and Harry to follow. He led them to a large stone fireplace, at least 8 feet tall and seven feet wide, just outside the office.

"Go on, walk through," Mr. Dunster said urging Harry ahead of him.

Harry looked at him curiously. "Aren't we missing something? Don't we need floo powder?"

"No, no, my dear boy, this is a direct portal to Gringott's - much cleaner than floo powder."

"I'll go first, Harry," Lupin said kindly. "Don't worry, it's just like the entrance to Platform 9¾." Lupin walked confidently into the fireplace and disappeared through the stone wall at the back.

Harry took a deep breath and prepared himself just as he did every year at King's Cross. He stood up straight and walked through the fireplace. A second after he thought he would hit the stone wall, he was looking up at the tall arched ceilings of Gringott's.

Harry quickly stepped out of the way to make room for Mr. Dunster. He strode through a moment later and walked directly to the nearest goblin's desk.

"We are here to oversee the division of Sirius Black's holdings," Mr. Dunster said as he pulled out some papers and presented them to the goblin along with a shiny key. "Vault number 711, here is the key."

"Very well," the crabby looking goblin said, "Griphook will take you to the vault." The goblin motioned to a smaller familiar looking goblin who rushed forward and took the key.

Harry felt a strong sense of dejavu as they hurtled through the underground maze of twists and turns heading towards a vault he had never seen before with none other than the same goblin who first opened his parent's vault six years ago. He also felt a strange combination of curiosity and dread. He wanted to know what was in the vault but opening it and dividing the contents would be another confirmation of Sirius's death.

What could be in the vault? What was in the box that Dumbledore inherited? What could possibly be left for Lupin and him? Sirius hadn't exactly had a job for the last fifteen years, Harry was surprised that he had 30,000 Galleons to give away.

The cart came to a screeching halt that nearly tossed Harry over the edge. "Vault 711," Griphook announced as he put the key in the lock of a large metal door.

Mr. Dunster walked in first, followed by Lupin. Harry entered slowly but found there was little room to stand. The room was so full of gold that it was almost overflowing. There must have been six times as much money in this vault as in his own.

Harry looked at Lupin's stunned face. "Did you know?" Harry blurted out.

"I...I had no idea. I knew his uncle had left him some money all those years ago but this- I just don't understand. It can't all be from that." A look of sudden comprehension washed over Lupin's face which suddenly frowned but still stared ahead at the mountains of gold. "It's his mother's money. Of course, why didn't I think of it before? He inherited the house, naturally he would inherit the wealth too. No wonder he never spent it," Lupin said bitterly.

Mr. Dunster was assessing the contents of the vault and giving instructions to Griphook. "15,000 Galleons each shall be transferred to the vaults of Arthur Weasley and Nymphadora Tonks." Griphook snapped his fingers and a small pile of gold disappeared from one corner of the vault. If Harry hadn't seen it disappear, he would never have known that it was there to begin with. It seemed a pittance compared to the amount that was leftover. "And that box over there," Mr. Dunster continued while Griphook looked for the box, "No, not the silver one- that gold one with Black's name. Yes, that one. That will go to Albus Dumbledore's vault." The box vanished before Harry could get more than a glance at it.

Lupin and Harry were still too stunned to do anything more than stand there and watch. Mr. Dunster turned to them, "Well, how do you want to divide the remains?"

Harry and Lupin looked at each other for several seconds before either spoke. "I don't know about you Harry," Lupin began, "but I don't really want this money mingled with my own. I'd rather keep it separate from my vault. I'd like to know what I've earned and what I haven't."

"Yeah, I agree," Harry said as he thought unpleasantly of Sirius's mother's money mixing with his parent's. "And there's stuff here that can't be divided evenly," he said eyeing the silver box and a few other items. "What if we just share this vault?"

"I think that would be best. I doubt either of us will ever be able to spend even a quarter of what's here."

"Well, don't you want to withdraw some of your inheritance today?" Mr. Dunster asked. "You're both millionaires now, you may as well enjoy it."

"Millionaires?" Harry whispered and turned pale. "I don't want this money, not coming from where it did."

"Harry," Lupin said with sympathy, "Sirius wanted you to have it, he wanted you to be taken care of. Would you rather that it went to people like the Malfoys? Imagine what they would have done with it. Believe me, Harry, when I say that Sirius would have been thrilled to see this money going towards good. Imagine how infuriated Mrs. Black would be if she knew where her fortune was going."

Harry smiled a bit at the thought of that.

"Tell you what, Harry," Lupin continued as he scooped up some of the gold into a bag, "I think we could both use some cheering up, so let's go to Diagon Alley today and I'll buy your birthday present. You can choose whatever you want, now that I can afford it."

Several hours later, their money bags were considerably lighter and they were loaded down with packages. Remus and Harry both were buying new wardrobes at Madame Malkin's. And because they didn't want to spend the money on themselves, they spent it on each other.

Remus was asking Harry what he wanted for a birthday present but Harry had yet to think of anything. However, upon looking at his reflection in the mirror at Madame Malkin's, he had an idea. "What about a foe glass?"

"For your birthday present? Wouldn't you rather have a new broomstick or your own set of Quidditch balls?" Lupin asked with surprise.

"No, I love the Firebolt and I would never replace it, at least not yet. Sirius gave it to me. I don't have a foe glass and I think it could be useful. And if I do become an Auror, I'll need one," Harry said as they left the shop.

"Alright then, a foe glass it is. There's only one place to find that. Turn right up here past the Magical Menagerie."

"Where are we going?" Harry said as they walked down a narrow alley with no shops in sight.

"Cloak and Dagger. It's where Moody buys all of his things and, well, your father and Sirius were frequent customers in our Hogwarts days."

"But where is it?" Harry asked hesitantly, as he came to the end of the alley and turned around to see nothing but brick walls on all sides.

Lupin merely gave a small grin and said calmly to the wall in front of him, "We solemnly swear we are spying for good."

Suddenly a door appeared in the wall. Harry looked at Lupin with raised eyebrows, "The Marauder's Map? They got the idea from here?"

"For the password, yes. Being the troublemakers they were, they decided to change the wording a little bit though," Lupin answered with a smile as he opened the door.

The store was dark and quiet and filled with all sorts of gadgets that could have kept Harry entertained for months. There were sneakoscopes in all sizes and colors filling a tall glass case. Shelves upon shelves of books lined two walls. Glass cases full of odd looking metal devices surrounded the interior. There was a small room off to one side with racks of clothing. In front of the racks there was a mannequin's head floating in midair. Harry looked closer at the mannequin head and noticed a sign on a stand below it: _Very Rare Invisibility Cloak - Finest Quality - 150,000 galleons_. No wonder few people have them, Harry thought.

"Did my dad buy his invisibility cloak here?" Harry asked Lupin, who was frowning at a case full of stakes, crosses, ropes of garlic, holy water, strange herbs and potions, tubes of mercury, and silver bullets.

"What?" Lupin asked absently, turning his attention back to Harry. "No, it belonged to his grandfather I believe."

Harry was so interested in everything around him that he almost forgot what he was looking for until Lupin pointed out a wall full of the foe glasses behind a counter. With the assistance of the shopkeeper, they picked out the best foe glass in the shop at Lupin's insistence. This one was supposed to have unfailing accuracy and was less likely to be easily fooled by people with petty grievances. If anyone showed up in this glass, it would be a true enemy who meant real harm to Harry. And there were three separate glasses representing enemies at different distances; 10 km, 1 km, and less than 50 meters.

On their way back to the Leaky Cauldron, Harry remembered something. He turned around a corner and ran to a small colorful storefront. Lupin ran to catch up with him.

"Harry, why did you run off like that?" Lupin asked crossly.

"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," Harry said with a grin pointing to the sign on the front of the colorful store, "Fred and George's store, I've never seen it before."

Harry pulled at the door but it wouldn't budge. He then noticed a small sign in the window which read, _"Closed- will reopen tomorrow morning at 10." _

"Hmm, that's weird. It's early, I wonder where they are?" Harry muttered.

"You know Molly, she probably wanted them to come home early for dinner," Lupin suggested as he looked at his watch. "Speaking of which, let's get a bite at the Leaky Cauldron before heading back."

After a satisfactory meal at the Leaky Cauldron, although Harry had to admit that it wasn't as good as the meal he had last night, they portkeyed back to Grimmauld Place.

Harry had no sooner landed hard on the floor of the drawing room than he knew that something was wrong. Everything was dark. He was used to lights popping on automatically wherever he walked in the house. This was not right. Harry immediately reached for his wand.

There was breathing around him, heavy breathing. Could it be dementors again? If so, there was definitely more than one. Suddenly, there was a loud bang against the wood floor.

Someone moaned in the dark, but it definitely wasn't the sound of a dementor. But if it wasn't dementors, that meant something even more frightening - Death Eaters. But how did they get in? Dumbledore was secret keeper for the Order, no one could get in unless he told them the location.

Harry held his wand aloft, ready to protect himself if he needed to. Just as he was about to break the rules against underage sorcery and shout a protection spell, all of the lights came on instantly and Harry was looking shell-shocked into twenty familiar faces.

"SURPRISE!" they all screamed happily at once.

_Author's Note: _

_I thought it was about time for something good to happen to Harry. He's been through too much trauma, he deserved at least a nice surprise party for once in his life.  
So, next chapter, look forward to the party and lots of Weasleys._

_There's plenty of angsty dramatic stuff coming up in future chapters, so enjoy the fun while it lasts._

_Also, in case you might be interested, the structure of the will was based to some extent on Benjamin Franklin's. I wanted something that was a bit archaic and didn't have quite as many legal terms._


	5. Ch 5: Surprise!

**"Harry Potter and the Forbidden Passage" **

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. belong to J.K. Rowling and I am receiving no monetary compensation for this story.

_Author's Note:  
__Sorry this chapter took awhile to get out, at least it's a bit longer than the previous chapters. I'm not sure when the next chapter will be posted, around early September probably. Major drama is coming up, so the next chapter may be really long if I don't decide to split it up. If you get impatient waiting, read my other fic which should be updated in the meantime. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, and for those who haven't, please do! I love reviews and they really do make me want to write and post faster. After not getting as many detailed reviews on the last chapter, I lost some self-esteem and that probably helped to delay this chapter (in addition to the Great Blackout of 2003!). So, please review and I would be really interested to know where my audience comes from (what country at least). _

_Thanks. Hope you enjoy Chapter 5!_

_Cendrillon_

**Chapter 5: Surprise!**

Harry was so stunned and stood so still that someone might have thought he was under a _Petrificus Totalus_ spell in other circumstances. Immediately he was swarmed by a blur of people greeting him, hugging him, shaking his hand, and wishing him a happy birthday.

"But it's n-not my birthday," was all Harry was able to stutter.

"No, but tomorrow is. It wouldn't be a surprise if it was your actual birthday, mate," came a voice from somewhere to the left of Harry.

Harry turned to the voice and slowly saw Ron come into focus. Beside him were Hermione and Ginny. The twins were there and Bill and Charlie. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were smiling at Harry next to their sea of red-haired children, only one of which was conspicuously absent. 

Harry turned around to see the rest of his guests. At least half the Order stood in front of him; Tonks, Shacklebolt, Moody, Arabella Figg, and Mundungus Fletcher. Not to mention Remus, of course, and standing in Hagrid's rather large shadow were Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall. Harry did a double take as he noticed his last two guests.

"Neville?" Harry asked in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Neville Longbottom, who was standing beside his grandmother, frowned.

Harry, realizing his error, quickly tried to fix it. "I mean, I'm glad you're here. I'm just surprised." He didn't understand how Neville and his grandmother could be here unless Dumbledore had told them about the Order. But perhaps he did, considering that Neville's parents had been members.

"I'll say you were surprised," said Neville with a grin. "I wish Colin Creevey had been here to take your picture when the lights came on. That would have made the front page of the Daily Prophet."

"Yeah, I can picture the headline," Fred added, "Surprise Party Petrifies Potter." 

"Fred," called Mrs. Weasley's admonishing voice. "Well, come along everyone, the cake's ready in the dining room. Harry, you first," she said as she opened the doors to the dining room and ushered him in.

Harry gasped when he saw the creation in the middle of the huge table. He would never have described it as a cake, it was really a work of art. It was a huge icing covered replica of Hogwarts, complete with turrets and Quidditch pitch. And there were meringue clouds magically floating above it. Sticking out of the windows in odd places were 16 lit candles. 

"Mrs. Weasley, I can't believe you made this. It'sit's incredible," Harry said with astonishment and gratitude.

"Oh, I didn't make it, Harry dear."

"Then who-"

Harry felt a tug at his pant legs and looked down with surprise to see a very familiar face. "Please sir, Dobby made the cake. Does Harry Potter like it, sir?"

"Dobby?!" Harry asked in shock. "Dobby, it's wonderful. I've never seen anything like it," Harry said honestly.

"Professor Dumbledore asked Dobby to work here for the summer, sir, while the students are away. Professor Dumbledore says that Dobby is trustworthy and will keep the secrets for the Order," Dobby said with pride showing in his large round eyes. Dobby lowered his voice so that only Harry could hear, "Dobby would do anything for Professor Dumbledore, sir, but Dobby was most pleased that Harry Potter would be here. Did Harry Potter like his supper last night, sir? Dobby tried to remember all of Harry Potter's favorite dishes at Hogwarts."

"What?" Harry said startled before he glared at Remus, who was grinning like the Cheshire cat. "I thought that you made the meal last night."

"I never said I made it, I just said that the meals were better than last summer and they are, Dobby," Remus said turning to the house-elf and complimenting him warmly. 

"Yes, Dobby, supper was great," Harry added smiling down at the elf.

"Potter," Moody's gruff voice called, "Your cake is melting, boy. You might want to blow out those candles before they burn the house down."

"Oh right," Harry said sheepishly as he realized that he had never had a birthday cake with candles before. Nor had he ever had people singing to him on his birthday as he did at this moment. He should have been used to being the center of attention by now, but having a room full of people singing to him still made his face turn a distinct shade of pink.

"Well, what did you wish for, Harry?" Tonks asked after he blew out the candles.

Harry frowned, he had forgotten to make a wish. He had never had candles to blow out before, so he had never been in this position. He thought sadly that he should have wished for Sirius to come back, but now he lost his chance. But this was no time to dwell on Sirius, not with everyone looking expectantly at him. Not when everyone had tried so hard to make sure he had a wonderful birthday.

A thought occurred to Harry. "I wished that you would tell me what you spoke to the Dursleys about," Harry said expectantly to Remus.

"Oh is that all? Well I suppose I can make that wish come true," Remus answered with a sigh. "You might not like the answer though."

"I'm used to disappointment, just tell me."

"I thought it only right to invite your only living relatives to your birthday party. Obviously, they declined...to put it mildly. I'm sorry, Harry."

"You invited the Dursleys here?!" Harry was in shock. Even the thought of the Dursleys here with two dozen wizards was enough to put him in St. Mungo's with Lockhart. Of course, they would never have come, but why would Remus think he would have wanted them here in the first place?

"Naturally I invited them, but I knew they wouldn't accept. And obviously you now know why I couldn't tell you about our conversation, since it would give away the surprise. But they did want to give you this," Remus said, pulling out a small rectangular package wrapped in old bits of newspaper.

Harry looked at the package warily, knowing full well that it most likely contained something so pitiful that it would be thoroughly embarrassing to open it in front of all of the people he respected and admired. He gave Remus a pleading look as if to ask, "Do I have to open it now?" 

But it was Molly Weasley that saved him. "Presents later, it's time for cake," she said as she passed the first slice to Harry. Harry watched as the cake was magically served up to everyone in perfectly cut slices and soon the only part of the cake left was Gryffindor Tower and a few meringue clouds. 

The cake slices didn't really look all that appealing by themselves with their gray icing, and the cake itself was colored gray to match. One look at Dobby's expectant face though and Harry knew he had to sample it. Harry reluctantly put a forkful in his mouth. But there was no need to worry because it was without a doubt the best thing he had ever tasted.

A short while later, the whole cake was gone and Dobby looked very pleased with himself as he cleaned up. Meanwhile, a pile of presents had magically appeared on the table in front of Harry. He was careful to pocket the present from the Dursleys so that he didn't have to open it in front of everyone. 

"Open mine, Harry," Ginny said smiling as she handed him a small package from the pile.

Inside Ginny's carefully wrapped package was something Harry would never have expected to receive from Ron's little sister. He might have expected a singing birthday card or some other mortifying thing, but never this. "A knife?"

"It's to replace the one that was damaged at the Ministry, the knife that could open any door. I looked all summer for one and just found it the other day. Do you like it?"

Harry didn't know what to say. The knife that had melted in the locked door in the Department of Mysteries had been a gift from Sirius and nothing could really ever replace that. But Ginny had truly tried hard to find a gift that would please him and must have spent a fortune on the knife from the looks of the very intricately carved handle. He looked at her and felt immense gratitude and true friendship. "Thanks, Gin, this is perfect," he said with a genuine smile.

The next present was a dragon's tooth from Charlie. Fred suggested that he wear it as an earring like Bill and promptly received a death glare from Mrs. Weasley. Ron gave him the usual assortment of candy. Fred and George gave him an assortment of items from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, including the skiving snack box, canary creams, a set of extendable ears, as well as their latest invention, Truth Truffles. 

George whispered to Harry, "Use them on Malfoy. The key ingredient is Veritaserum, he'll have to answer any question truthfully."

"Or better yet," Fred whispered with a devilish grin, "Use them on Ron and ask him how he feels about Hermione."

It was painful for Harry to hold back the laughter that was swelling inside him at the thought of Ron under Veritaserum as he opened his next present. Bill gave him a wizard chess set. Harry politely thanked him but wasn't all that excited about it until Bill told him later in secret that the chess set was charmed to always win against Ron. 

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley gave Harry his first wizard camera, actually his first camera of any kind. Hermione's gift was hardly a surprise, it was a book. But oddly for Hermione, this was a book about divination, specifically prophecies. Harry didn't really want to think about the prophecy but as Neville handed him his present, it reminded him of something. Neville was born at the end of July too. Was it his birthday today also?

"Happy Birthday Neville," Harry blurted out. "I'm sorry I don't have a present, I didn't know I would see you."

"How did you know it was my birthday yesterday?" Neville asked in shock.

Dumbledore gave Harry a warning look and shook his head slightly. Had he never told Neville about the prophecy either?

Harry fumbled around for an answer, "Um, well, we've lived together for five years, you must have mentioned it at some point."

"Must have," Neville muttered warily, looking thoroughly unconvinced.

Neville's gift was a small _Mimbulus mimbletonia_ that he had grown from a cutting of his own plant with Professor Sprout's help. Hagrid gave Harry a small hand-carved wooden figure of a black dog that reminded Harry painfully of Sirius. To break his saddened mood, Tonks cheerfully handed him her gift. Surprisingly, it looked like an ordinary compact disc with the Weird Sisters logo pasted on the top. 

"I wanted to give you concert tickets," Tonks said, "But Moody and Lupin here said that wouldn't be such a good idea, taking you out in public and all."

"This is really cool, butI don't have a CD player."

"Oh you don't need a CD player. Just point your wand at the disc and say _Canero_."

"_Canero_," Harry said loudly following her instructions. Immediately, a familiar song from the Yule Ball blasted through the room. It sounded like they were at a live Weird Sisters concert. All of the older adults covered their ears, except for Dumbledore who was tapping his foot to the beat and looking rather pleased. 

"_Sonus Reducto_," Remus shouted over the music as he aimed his wand at the CD. The sound immediately reduced to little more than a whisper. 

Once everything became quiet again, Dumbledore handed Harry the last remaining gift. "This gift is from the Order. I'm afraid it isn't quite as exciting as Nymphadora's, but it does have its benefits."

Harry opened the small package to reveal a flat velvet box. Inside the box was a pendant on a golden chain. It looked like a coin, slightly smaller than a Galleon, but engraved upon it there was an image of a phoenix rising out of the flames. 

Dumbledore pulled out a similar pendant from his robes and spoke to it, "I am loyal to the Order of the Phoenix." He turned to Harry, "Repeat those words to your pendant." 

Harry did so, wondering if it was some sort of strange initiation right into the Order. But just as he finished speaking the words, the metal flames in the pendant turned into real flames, tiny flickering yellow and orange lights against the golden phoenix.

"Only someone with true loyalty to the Order will be able to activate the charm. This pendant will allow you to keep in touch with any member of the Order, Harry," Dumbledore said, "so you won't have to seek out forbidden fireplaces anymore. Just say the name of the Order member you'd like to speak to and they will be able to hear you. We wear these pendants always, as you must from now on." As he spoke, all of the Order members removed the chains from beneath their robes.

"You see Harry," Remus said, "You'll never have to worry again about reaching one of us. When you want to talk to me, you can simply speak through the pendant."

"But this gift does come with responsibilities," Dumbledore said seriously. "Harry, you can never tell anyone about the pendant or let anyone unfamiliar with the Order see you using it. It could place our members in jeopardy if it ever fell into the wrong hands. And that goes for the rest of you as well," Dumbledore said as he looked in turn at Ron, Hermione, and Ginny.

* * * * *

"I don't understand why Dumbledore doesn't let us have a pendant too," Ron argued angrily to Harry sometime later as they walked up to their bedrooms after Harry bid goodbye to the last of his guests. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had opted to stay at Grimmauld Place with Harry for the rest of the summer..

"I'm sure he had his reasons, Ron," Hermione admonished. "I mean we're not even members of the Order yet and Harry is the one who needs protection. He needs to be able to contact them."

"And we don't?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Ron, you know very well that we are hardly in the same position as Harry."

"But we already know about the Order. We were even living at headquarters all last summer."

"But You-Know-Who isn't after us, we aren't the ones in danger," Hermione argued back.

"It's not like our lives aren't in danger too. Hell, every year we find ourselves in mortal peril at some point. First year, I'm knocked out by lifesize chess pieces. Second year, I'm chased by giant man-eating spiders. Third year, Sirius breaks my leg and pulls a knife on me. Fourth year, I'm roped up and dragged down to the bottom of the lake to be held prisoner by merpeople. And fifth year, bloody fifth year, chased by Death Eaters and attacked by a brain's tentacles. I'm surprised we all survived."

Harry gave Ron a cold glare upon hearing those words and stormed off to his room, slamming the door behind him. Through the door, he could hear Ginny shouting.

"Shut up both of you! You argue all the time and you know he hates it. Why do I have such an idiotic prat for a brother? How could you say those things in front of Harry? We didn't all survive. Sirius died and Harry feels it every second of every day. How could you forget, Ron? And on his birthday of all times, what were you thinking?"

A few seconds later, Harry saw his doorknob turn and before he could lock it, Ginny walked into the room and sat beside him on the bed.

"He didn't mean it, Harry. He's justwell you know how he can be, and Hermione too. They can't face their feelings so they argueabout everything."

"Yeah, they're kind of hopeless aren't they?" 

"Completely."

An awkward silence followed as Harry looked down at the wooden dog figure Hagrid had given him and turned it in his hands.

Ginny spoke up at last, "You know you're not alone, Harry. I know you feel that way now. You feel like you've lost all your family, but that's not true."

"Ha!" Harry replied sarcastically, "You can't possibly be referring to the Dursleys."

"No," Ginny said seriously, "not the Dursleys. It's not always a blood connection that makes a family, Harry. A family is made of people who care deeply for each other. So much so that they would risk their own lives for one another. Harry, we're your family. So are Lupin and Dumbledore and even McGonagall. You have the biggest family of anyone I know, including me. So many people care about you, so many people would do anything to keep you safe. We love you, HarryI-"

The door creaked open again and Ron peeked in and cautiously entered.

"I'm sorry, Harry, II didn't know what I was saying. You know Hermione always gets me all riled up. I hardly know what I'm talking about when I'm around her sometimes." Harry tried to share a glance with Ginny at Ron's remark, but she was now looking flushed and staring at her hands folded in her lap.

"It's ok, Ron, I know you didn't mean anything by it."

"Oh, um, by the way," Ginny said as she looked up again but did not look directly at Harry as she spoke, "Dean wishes you a Happy Birthday too."

Ron scowled but then put on an impish smile as he looked at Harry. "You know Ginny spent a load on that knife for you, Harry. She really was looking for it all summer. Drove Mum crazy with all the trips to Diagon Alley."

Ginny turned a bright shade of crimson. "Well, you would have been able to afford a better gift for Harry if you hadn't spent all your money last Christmas on that foul perfume for Hermione."

"It was not foul! The shopkeeper said it was what all the French witches are wearing these days," Ron answered angrily.

But Harry was no longer paying attention as his eye was drawn to an envelope that he had just noticed on the table next to his bed. He grabbed the official-looking envelope and opened it, causing Ron and Ginny to immediately cease their bickering in their curiosity to find out what the letter was about. Harry's eyes widened with shock as he read it.

"Well," Ron urged, "What is it?

"Um, the Ministry wants to give me an award," Harry answered very awkwardly

"For what?" Ron asked confused.

Ginny slapped her brother's arm, "What do you think, you prat? Saving the world a few times for one." She turned to Harry, "So when is this award ceremony going to be?"

"Two weeks from tonight. This is justweird. Why are they doing this now?"

"Well, it's probably a political move to help the Ministry's image," Ginny answered.

"Yeah, Harry," Ron interjected, "You and Dumbledore are being praised so much by the press lately. Maybe this is a move to help people forget how the Ministry ignored You-Know-Who's return last year. Anything to make Cornelius Fudge look good to the public probably. Dad says Fudge is very close to being removed from office. Any wrong move and he's out."

Ginny nodded her head in agreement. "In any case, you deserve the award, Harry, so just enjoy it. It's got to be better than last year at least, with no one believing you and all." She rose to leave. "Well, you've had a really long day, so we'll just let you get some rest now. Goodnight, Harry."

"Night, Gin. Night, Ron."

"G'night, Harry and happy birthday," Ron said as he left the room and closed the door behind him.

Harry flopped back onto the bed utterly exhausted, but fell onto something hard. He reached into his robes and pulled out the package from the Dursleys.

"Blast, I had forgotten about this. Well, at least no one's around this time," Harry said to himself as he removed the newspaper wrapping from the parcel. 

Inside was a small old looking book with a tattered purple binding. It looked like a piece of rubbish the Dursleys would have thrown out, which didn't exactly surprise Harry. They had never given him a present of any real value. Aunt Petunia had cleaned out the garage shortly before he left, so she probably just decided to give him a piece of the rubbish she found. 

Harry flipped through the pages, all of which appeared to be blank. He was about to toss the book into the garbage can when he noticed something. In the lower right corner on the front of the book, there was a tiny image. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be a white flower - a lily. Harry's heart thumped quickly and he held his breath. It couldn't possibly be, could it?

* * * * *

  



	6. Ch 6: Property of Lily Evans

**Harry Potter and the Forbidden Passage**  
by Cendrillon 

_Disclaimer: The wonderful world of Harry Potter is entirely the property of the incredible J.K. Rowling, and I am, unfortunately, not her, nor am I benefitting from any monetary compensation for this story._  


* * *

**Chapter 6: Property of Lily Evans**

  
Harry held the small book delicately as he stared at the white lily on the cover. He opened it slowly, hardly daring to think and yet hoping that he would find some evidence that it was what he thought it might be.

He found what he was looking for immediately on the inside of the front cover. There, written in tiny perfect script, he read, "_Property of Lily Evans_." Below it was scrawled in the same feminine handwriting, "_PETUNIA, KEEP OUT_!" This confirmed his suspicions - it was his mother's diary. Harry flipped through the pages again more slowly, looking carefully at every page. But it was no use, the book was entirely blank except for the cover.

Harry quickly threw open his trunk and removed a quill and ink. He sat down at the desk and opened the book to the first page. Dipping his quill in the ink, he poised it over the page. He decided to write the same words he first wrote in Tom Riddle's diary.

"_My name is Harry Potter_," Harry scribbled on the first page. 

The ink absorbed into the paper but did not vanish as it did with Riddle's diary. Harry waited five full minutes, but no new words ever appeared. 

Ten more minutes and still the only words on the page were the ones he had written.

"_Lily_?" Harry wrote. 

Once again, no response.

"_Mum, please talk to me_!" he scrawled hastily. 

Nothing - no perfect tiny script replied, "_Hello, Harry_!" or "_Harry, I'm here_."

Perhaps the diary was blank after all. Perhaps it was rubbish, Harry thought bitterly. Even worse, perhaps this was all some very nasty joke from the Dursleys. If so, they had never been more cruel, even when they starved him or hit him or locked him in the cupboard under the stairs.

* * * * *

The next morning, Harry awoke in a very bad mood with his head down on the book and the quill still in his hand. He had filled five pages of the diary, begging for a response, before finally collapsing from exhaustion and frustration.

He reluctantly got dressed and went downstairs to join everyone for breakfast. He didn't really want to face anyone right now, but he knew they would come to find him if he did not make an appearance and that would be much worse.

"Morning," Harry called as he entered the dining room. Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Remus were already seated around the table and eating breakfast.

"Good morning, Harry," Remus greeted him warmly. "Happy Birthday."

"Yeah, Happy Birthday, Harry!" Ron said, with Hermione and Ginny joining in.

"Dobby prepared quite a feast for you this morning," Remus said as he served Harry a plate full of food. There were eggs benedict, thick sausages, exotic fruits, and warm raisin and cinnamon scones with fresh Devonshire cream. 

Along with the food came a mug full of rich hot chocolate and a tall glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. It was an incredible spread and it smelled delicious, but Harry could do little more than pick at it. He just didn't have any appetite this morning.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione asked with concern. "You look like you didn't get very much sleep. Is something wrong?"

"No," Harry said flatly, not leaving room for discussion.

"Well, Harry, is there anything you'd like to do today?" Remus asked.

Harry shrugged and continued picking at his food. What he really felt like doing, he couldn't do here and it certainly didn't involve other people. Right now, he would have liked nothing better than to be completely alone watching a television program that would drown out his every thought and concern. After all, it worked for Dudley, perhaps it would work for him.

"There you go again," Ginny said with annoyance as she dropped her fork loudly on her plate.

"What?" Harry asked defensively.

"Blocking us out, just like you did last Christmas."

"She's right, Harry," Hermione said, "You are doing it again. Just tell us what's going on. It will help to talk about it, I promise."

"There's nothing wrong," Harry snapped. 

"Harry!" Hermione said angrily, standing up with her hands on her hips. She had the determination and fire in her eyes that Harry knew from experience to take as an immediate warning signal.

"All right, all right, so maybe there is something wrong," he muttered.

"Go on," Hermione said.

"Well, after Ron and Ginny left last night, I opened my gift from the Dursleys."

"Oh, they didn't give you a tissue again, did they?" Ron asked. "Don't let the Muggles get you down, Harry."

"Is that the type of gift they usually give you, Harry? If I had known, I would never have given it to you," Remus said apologetically.

"No. No, you don't understand, it isn't like that this time. It isn't trash. Or maybe it is. I justI just don't know," Harry said in frustration. He pushed his food aside, then put his head on the table, resting on his crossed arms, so he wouldn't have to look at anyone.

"Harry," Hermione said tentatively as she touched his arm. "Harry, look at me. You can tell us anything, I hope you know that by now. Tell me, what did they give you?"

"It'sit's a book."

"And?" Hermione prodded.

"Andthere was a lily on the front and the inside cover says it was the property of my mother, but the pages are blank," Harry said in a rush of words. "I just thoughtI thought that maybe-"

"You thought it was a diary like his, like Tom Riddle's, didn't you?" Ginny said quietly.

"Yes," Harry confessed miserably, slumping back in his chair.

"I take it writing in the book did nothing, then?" Ginny asked.

"No, there was no response. Now I'm wondering if it was all just one big cruel joke from the Dursleys. It sounds like something Dudley would do if he had any idea how much something like that would mean to me."

"No, I don't think it was a joke, Harry," Remus said, frowning. "MaybeI hate to tell you this, but maybe it _is_ just an empty book. Perhaps they thought you could use it at school."

"Maybe," Harry replied glumly.

"Harry?" Hermione asked tentatively. "You did check for simple charms and invisible ink first, didn't you?" She laughed slightly, "Oh, I'm being silly, of course you did. I mean you wouldn't write in the diary without doing that first."

Harry felt like his heart had stopped beating. His face blanched and his eyes grew wide. "Nokind of didn't."

"_What!_? You _have_ to be kidding me. Your mother probably was just trying to hide the text, she wouldn't need a spell as complex as Riddle's," Hermione said, exasperated. "All right, bring it down here. Let's see what we can do."

Harry immediately got up and ran to collect the book. 

By the time he returned, Hermione already had a Revealer, which looked like a large red eraser, in her hand. As Harry handed her the book, everyone moved in to get a closer look. 

"Well, it does look like a diary, Harry," Ginny commented.

Hermione opened the book to the first page. "See the note she left for your aunt, Harry. I bet she was just trying to hide the writing from her sister. Since she was Muggleborn, she wouldn't need a complex spell to make the writing invisible if she was hiding it from her family."

"I guess that makes sense," Harry said. "Aunt Petunia is a great snoop, she spends her days spying on the neighbors. I wouldn't be surprised if she tried to read Mum's diary when they were younger."

Hermione had turned her attention to Harry's writings on the first page and paused with the Revealer in hand over the page.

"What are you waiting for, Hermione? Try the Revealer," Harry said anxiously.

"Well, I can't do it here. Harry, you filled the _whole_ page! If anything does appear, it's going to be difficult to read," Hermione commented as she flipped to the next page and the next. "You filled five pages? I wish you had come to me sooner."

"Well, it's too late now isn't it?" Harry spat. "Now use the Revealer or give it to me."

"Fine, fine, don't get upset," Hermione said as she flipped to a blank page and started to rub the page with the red eraser. 

Nothing appeared. Harry sighed. 

"Don't get discouraged yet," Hermione said, "Let's try another page." Another page was rubbed, but still no writing appeared.

"Sorry, mate," Ron said sympathetically to Harry, "Looks like it's blank after all."

"Hold on," Hermione said, "That was just to see if she used invisible ink. We don't know if there's a charm on it yet."

"Professor Lupin, try the Apareciusspell_,_" Hermione suggested.

Lupin gave her a look of amusement. "Believe it or not, Hermione, I am aware of a few spells for this situation."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, blushing, "I didn't mean...oh, just try it, please?"

_"Aparecium_!" Remus said after he tapped the book three times. Black spots slowly appeared on the page gradually spreading to form letters. Within seconds, the page was filled with the same feminine script that appeared on the cover. 

Hermione smiled with triumph as she handed the book back to Harry.

"I can't believe it. You did it!" Harry said with astonishment.

"It wasn't that difficult really. She chose a fairly basic concealing charm."

"This is amazing," Harry said as he flipped through the now filled pages. He turned to the first page and started trying to read in between his own handwriting, but became suddenly aware of all the people standing behind him. He snapped the book shut and turned around. 

"I would sort of like tobe alone when I read this. I'll tell you about it later, of course, but-"

"Oh, right, of course, Harry," Remus said immediately. "I have to go back to Diagon Alley anyway. Why don't you three join me?"

Hermione, Ron, and Ginny agreed and soon thereafter, Harry was left in complete solitude.

He went up to his bedroom and closed the door, determined not to be bothered by anyone who might stop by, when he read his mother's diary. He settled himself down on the bed and turned back to the first page. It wasn't that hard to distinguish her handwriting from his after all since they had used different colors of ink and his handwriting was so much larger than hers. He started to read the first entry.

_  
August 23, 1975_

_A brand new diary is such a lovely thing. A blank book to fill with all my hopes, dreams, and emotions. Hopefully, Petunia won't steal this one like the others. Even if she does, she won't be able to read it at least. I finally decided to put a charm on it. Sometimes it pays to be the only witch in the family._

_My Hogwarts letter came today with the seventh year book list and great news - I'm HEAD GIRL! Mum and Dad were so proud they bought me an owl. It's very cute, like a little brown ball of fluff. I named him Frodo after a character in this book I read over the summer. It seems to fit him._

_Petunia is pea green with envy as usual. Mum and Dad aren't so pleased with her right now because she didn't pass her entrance exams for university. Ever since I was accepted to Hogwarts, she's been impossible to live with. She always puts me down and tells me I'll go to Hell for being a witch, but I think the truth is she really wishes she had some magical abilities. Who wouldn't, right? One time I caught her trying to use my wand, she kept shaking it and saying nonsense words. She was so angry when nothing happened. It was the funniest thing I've ever seen!_

_But then again, maybe she should be thankful she isn't a witch, at least a Muggleborn one anyway. It's pretty frightening being a Muggleborn witch right now with You-Know-Who out there and all. It's hard to believe I might be facing him myself shortly, after I start Auror training next year. Maybe someday I'll be known as the famous Lily Evans, the girl who defeated the Dark Lord. Or maybe I'll just be another nameless Mudblood victim of You-Know-Who, but I'd prefer to think the former. _

_Oh, I forgot to mention the bad news of the day - Potter is Head Boy this year. Why Dumbledore would make that asinine jerk Head Boy is beyond me. Why wasn't Remus made Head Boy? He's been Prefect for the last two years, not Potter. And just when I was hoping to get to know Remus better. But nooo, Potter has to step in. Must be because of that incident with Snape last year. No one would tell us what happened, but suddenly Potter is Dumbledore's golden boy. _

_Making matters worse, in our new duties, Potter and I will have to meet regularly to discuss school issues. I can just imagine what will take place:_

_ Me: So what activities should we plan for the Halloween Feast?  
James: How about feasting with me, Evans?  
Me: In your dreams, Potter!_

_I can't even begin to fathom why the boy keeps asking me out, despite the fact that I've turned him down at least three times a day for the last four years. You'd think that at least would have deflated his head a bit by now._

_I don't know why the other girls find him so attractive. I mean he's good looking and athletic and smart I suppose, but what good are those when he behaves like an immature prat. A handsome face and great Quidditch skills can't make up for a bad personality in my opinion. I could never go out with someone who would play such cruel pranks, even if they are usually played on a complete slimeball like Snape. I'd even take that little rat, Pettigrew, over Potter..._

  
Harry slammed the book shut. He couldn't take anymore, not yet. He couldn't bear to read another disparaging word that his mother had written about his father. She had hated him. She had truly and utterly hated him. Why had she married him? Why had she ever even agreed to go out with him in the first place? It just didn't make sense.

* * * * *

As Harry went to bed that night, he was still haunted by the diary. The image of his mother yelling at his father in Snape's memory kept replaying in his head as he drifted off to sleep.

"I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid," Lily spat at James. 

"You _will _go out with me, Evans," James threatened darkly, "unless you'd like to turn out like Snivellus here." James directed his wand at Snape who was hovering upside down in mid-air behind him. Pink soap bubbles poured out of Snape's mouth every time he tried to speak. Then the bubbles stopped and Snape's body revolved until he was right side up. He appeared to be screaming, though no sound issued from his mouth. It was as though someone had taken his voice away. Snape looked terrified as James aimed his wand at him.

James looked back at Lily. He smiled sinisterly before turning back to Snape and yelling, "_Crucio_!" 

Snape screamed, his voice returning at full strength. He shook with the pain until James finally lowered his wand. Snape collapsed at his feet.

"Someday, Evans, you will be where he is. On the ground, bowing to me," James said triumphantly. He began to laugh horribly and uncontrollably. He doubled up with the laughter and when he raised his head again, it was no longer James Potter who looked up, but Voldemort.  


* * *

_Author's Notes:|  
  
Many thanks to my beta-reader, Ozma, and to everyone who has reviewed.   
_

_I have a deleted scene from this chapter that is posted as a separate story under the title "HP and the Forbidden Passage Chaper 6 Deleted Scene". This is a much lighter scene I created to balance out the angst in this chapter, but it didn't seem to quite fit with the flow and it's not Rowlingesque enough to include here. But it's fun, especially for H/G and R/H fans. The deleted scene covers the rest of the day after the time Harry stops reading the diary._


	7. Ch 7: Back to the Ministry

**Harry Potter and the Forbidden Passage**  
by Cendrillon Beaustylo

_Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. _**  
**

**  
Chapter 7: Back to the Ministry **

  
"Harry! Harry, wake up!" a voice called out from somewhere in Harry's dream. The image of Voldemort laughing maniacally faded slowly from Harry's mind as he began to waken. He felt something cold and wet being placed against his forehead and his eyes instantly shot open. 

It was still quite dark, but Harry could see the outline of someone hovering above him and seated beside him on the bed. As his eyes began to adjust to the darkness, Harry recognized Remus's face highlighted by small shafts of light coming through the large windows. Remus reached over and pressed a wet cloth against Harry's head. It felt so cool compared to the rest of him which was drenched with sweat.

"You were having a nightmare," said Remus in his soothing but concerned voice. "You were screaming."

Harry pushed away the hand still pressed to his forehead and turned to face the other direction without answer.

"I thought your scar might be hurting. Was it Voldemort, Harry?"

Harry didn't answer. 

"Harry, I know it's difficult but you need to tell me if Voldemort is getting through to you. You know that by now."

Harry thought for a moment. Yes, Voldemort was in his dream, but did he influence the dream? It was true that he had not emptied his thoughts before going to sleep, as he should have if he was practicing Occlumency. But if Voldemort did control his mind, then why wasn't his scar burning or even prickling as it had every other time? Finally Harry replied but did not turn back to face Remus. "NoI don't think so. My scar is fine. It was nothing, just...just let me sleep," Harry said brusquely.

"Harry, I think you should talk to me. Screams like that don't come from nothing. Was itSirius?" 

"No," Harry answered quietly. _But any other night this summer, it would have been_, he thought bitterly.

"Harry!" Remus whispered furiously. The always present note of patience in his voice had vanished and was replaced with a touch of anger that seemed completely foreign to him. "Would you please turn around and talk to me?"

"I justdon't want to talk about it," Harry replied apologetically. _At least not with you_, he thought. How could he possibly tell Remus that he saw his father turn into Voldemort when they had been such close friends. 

"Fine," Remus answered defeated as he stood up. "But you would have talked to Sirius," he whispered sadly in the darkness. Would he? Harry wondered. Would he have told Sirius? But Harry knew in his heart that it was true. He would have told Sirius about the dream even though Sirius was his father's best friend. Sirius was the only one sometimes in the last two years that Harry felt he could confide in. He would tell Sirius things that he wouldn't even discuss with Ron and Hermione. But Remus just wasn't the same. Talking to Sirius was like talking to a friend, a brother, and a father all in one. Talking to Remus was still like talking to a teacher or maybe a parent.

"If you decide you want to tell me about it later tonight, I'll be in my room. But I'll be gone come morning," Remus said as he walked over to the door.

"Wait!" Harry called as he quickly spun around to face Remus. "What do you mean you'll be gone?"

"Don't worry, Arthur and Molly will be coming to take care of all of you. They'll be staying for the rest of the summer."

"Does that mean you're leaving for the rest of the summer?" Harry asked in a panicked voice.

"I'll be back in two weeks for the award ceremony at the Ministry."

"Two weeks? But where are you going? Why are you leaving?"

"Harry, I am an active member of the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore has given me orders, I have a mission. I can't tell you the details, they're confidential."

"It's not dangerous, is it?" Harry asked with concern.

Remus sighed and sat back down next to Harry. "It could be," he answered honestly. "Harry, no one is safe right now. And no one ever will be unless enough of us fight for what is good. The world is not made up of Gryffindors, Harry. Not everyone is brave enough to join the fight. That's why those of us that can and will fight _must_ stand against Voldemort. I will not stand by idly while your future, the future your parents died for, is threatened yet again by Voldemort and his followers. And if that means risking my life, then so be it. I am not afraid to die for this cause."

"Why can't I help then?" Harry asked desperately. "I want to fight. I've handled more than any of you. I can't just sit around here while the rest of you are battling Death Eaters."

"Well, you'll just have to, Harry. You know why you can't help now. Dumbledore told you the prophecy. You are the only hope of the wizarding world, and I know that's a terrible position to be in. Someday you _will_ face Voldemort again, but when that day comes, I want you to be prepared. You're only sixteen, Harry, and barely that. You don't know everything yet. How can you arm yourself against spells you haven't even learned yet?"

Harry nodded in assent grudgingly.

"Well, unless you feel like talking, you should probably get back to sleep. Molly will kill me if she thinks I kept you up all night," Remus said as he stood up again. 

"I'm sorry. I justI just can't talk about it now."

"It's all right, Harry. I can't expect you to change overnight. I hope you will feel comfortable enough to confide in me someday though. Good dreams then, no more nightmares. And don't worry, I'll be back in two weeks to see your ceremony at the Ministry. You know, James would have been so proud of you, Harry. You're so much like him, always the hero," Remus said with a sigh as he opened the door. "Good night, Harry."

"Bye," Harry said quietly as Remus closed the doors behind him.

If Harry's mind had been full before, it was now overflowing with disturbing thoughts. He would be completely open to Voldemort if he fell asleep with all of these thoughts flooding his brain. He tried desperately to practice Occlumency, to clear his mind of the nightmare and everything Remus said. An hour later, Harry finally fell back to sleep but not before one persistent thought slipped in. _Let me fight. If I died, at least I would see Sirius again. _

_* * * * *_

The next two weeks passed uneventfully for Harry. Grimmauld Place had become very quiet now that Death Eater activity had picked up and so many of the Order members were away on assignment. They all lived in fear and tried to do anything to distract themselves from the constant haunting thought that some of the members may never return. 

Harry particularly tried his best not to think of Remus facing Death Eaters in combat. So he preoccupied his time with games of chess with Ginny and Ron (which he was finally winning thanks to Bill's gift) and summer homework with Hermione. But visits from Fred and George were the best distractions of all, because no one could think of anything else when they were around. 

Harder to ignore were the diary and the nightmares. He had not opened the diary again since his birthday. It was still sitting on the table beside his bed waiting to be read. Harry would look at it and want to pick it up every night, but he still could not stomach the thought of his mother's feelings towards his father, especially after what he saw in Snape's memory last year. Everyone had naturally asked about the diary, but Harry tried to avoid the subject at all cost and eventually they stopped asking, much to his relief. The dreams were much harder to hide.

The nightmares had continued every night since he first read the diary. Every night, Harry would watch his father use the Cruciatus curse and turn into Voldemort. But now his father had startled to resemble Harry more and more, even down to the green eyes. This alone, although very disturbing, would be bearable if it saved Harry from the constant dreams of his godfather's death, but it did not. The dream would slowly change and he would once again see Sirius falling through the veil over and over until the dawn's light mercifully saved him from the torture that night had become. 

It was not uncommon for Harry to wake in the middle of the night in a cold sweat with someone shaking him or calling his name. Usually it would be Ron , but it was quite a bit more awkward when it was Ginny or Hermione who came to wake him from his screams. He could only be thankful that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's room was on a different floor. Very quickly he decided to lock his door at night and convinced Dobby to put a silencing charm on his room. 

The only problem with that was that he was consumed in such total seclusion when he went to his room that he couldn't help but think of everything he had been trying to forget. And at this moment, he was trying to forget the looming ceremony at the Ministry. The last thing he ever wanted was to be paraded in front of a large crowd. Harry hated it when people stared at his scar or treated him different from everyone else. And now he would be forced to deal with all of this in a very public forum and to act grateful for an award that he didn't even think he deserved. There was little doubt that he was a pawn of the Ministry, or maybe rather the Minister. Cornelius Fudge would do anything to win public support at this point, according to Mr. Weasley, and if that meant glorifying Harry Potter, then so be it. 

The only good thing about the whole event was that Remus would be coming back for it. Or at least that was what he said. It was only a couple of hours before the ceremony and he had not returned yet. To stop Harry from pacing continuously waiting for his return, Mrs. Weasley told him to get dressed for the ceremony, which he was planning to do as quickly as possible so he could continue pacing downstairs.

Harry looked at the new dress robes layed out on the bed that Mrs. Weasley bought him in Diagon Alley the day before. The new robes were black with green trim, much more understated than the ones he had worn to the Yule Ball, and much more preferable in Harry's opinion. Although Harry wanted to downplay the whole ceremony, Mrs. Weasley thought it was such an important event that she ordered everyone to get new dress robes for the occasion.

"Well, I guess I might as well do this properly," Harry said to himself as he opened up his Hogwarts trunk. He reached down to the bottom of the trunk to pull out some of his nicer clothes to wear beneath his new robes. But his fingers came across something small, hard, and jagged. He picked it up. It was the bag he had packed with the shattered pieces of the mirror Sirius had given him. 

Harry opened the door, stuck his head out into the hallway and called, "Dobby!" Immediately, there was a loud pop behind him as Dobby apparated into the room.

"What can Dobby do for Harry Potter, sir?" the elf asked enthusiastically.

"Dobby, can you fix this?" Harry asked as he dumped the shattered pieces onto the bed.

"It could be fixed sir, if Dobby knew what it looked like before it was broken."

"It was a small round mirror about this big," Harry motioned the size with his hands.

Dobby stared for a long moment at the broken pieces as if he was concentrating very hard. With a snap of his long fingers, the pieces rose into the air and began spinning very quickly until they all converged in a flash of light and a small round disc landed flat on the bed. There were no cracks or missing pieces, it looked as though it had never been broken.

"Thanks, Dobby, it's perfect."

"Dobby is pleased to help, sir. Can Dobby do anything else for Harry Potter?"

"No, that's all."

"Dobby will go help Mrs. Wheezy then."

"All right. Thanks, Dobby."

When Dobby left, Harry shut the door behind him, isolating himself once more. He sat down on the bed and held the small mirror in his hand, staring at his own reflection. The mirror looked just like it did before, but would it work? There was no real way to test it if no one else had the other mirror. He had already tried to contact Sirius through the mirror once and that only led to bitter disappointment. Butperhaps there was another way to communicate with the dead.

This would be the perfect opportunity to return to the veil. He might not even be back at the Ministry again for a couple of years. It has to be tonight, Harry though with determination. 

Now he just had to come up with a plan. If he was going to be the center of attention, it would be difficult to walk away unnoticed. Not to mention the numerous guards he would without doubt have in such a public setting. But there was one way to go unnoticed and it just might work.

* * * * *

By six o'clock, Remus had still not arrived and it was long past time to leave. Harry wanted to wait a few minutes longer for him, but Mrs. Weasley was already pushing them out the door and Moody had organized the advance guard. Harry longed for one of the clocks like the Weasleys had that could tell him where Remus was and if he was okay. Unfortunately, there was nothing of the kind at Grimmauld Place and none of the Order members could give him any information. 

Just for tonight, they had arranged for a large motor car to take them all to the Ministry. Mr. Weasley was waiting outside in the driver's seat of the Ministry car he borrowed, they couldn't risk having a professional driver meet them at Grimmauld Place. The car must have been charmed because it was somehow able to fit Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, Moody, and Kingsley Shacklebolt.all quite comfortably. Everyone else was apparating to the Ministry, and hopefully that would include Remus..

The drive to the Ministry was filled with tension for Harry. He felt so nauseous with anxiety that he wasn't even paying attention to Ron and Hermione's heated conversation over her recent letter from Victor Krum, Mrs. Weasley's attempts to flatten his constantly messy hair, or even Tonks' constantly changing visage and hair as she tried to choose a new look to wear for the occasion. 

Harry's nerves were on edge as he thought of being thrust in the spotlight, not to mention returning to the place where he lost his godfather and escaping from multiple Aurors to do so. But there was one thing on his side - the invisibility cloak. He thought he would have to convince someone to let him take it for protection, but Moody actually suggested it before he had the chance. Ah, but there was another problem- Moody could see through invisibility cloaks, so he would have to find a way to get around that. 

Harry was so consumed by his thoughts that he didn't even notice when the car stopped in front of the Ministry until Moody spoke to him in his gruff voice.

"Potter, you had better put on that invisibility cloak before we get out. We don't want anyone to see you arriving with us. You can remove it when we are safely in the building."

Harry pulled the cloak out and placed it around his shoulders, pulling the hood up just as Tonks, now sporting long blonde hair, opened the door and stepped out. After she looked around, she gave them the all clear sign and signaled them to get out one by one. Harry, Tonks, and Kingsley went in first, followed by the Weasleys, Hermione, and Moody. 

The Ministry was thronged, filled to the brim with wizards in their best robes and Harry would have been squished or run down instantly if he didn't have Tonks, Kingsley, and Moody surrounding him. 

"Follow me," Kingsley said in a low voice. They slowly squeezed through the herd of people to a narrow hallway where Kingsley led them into a small office.

"You can remove your cloak now, Potter, and stow it here."

Harry would rather have kept the cloak on, avoiding the crowd outside, but he did as requested and followed the Aurors back through the crowd and into the grand hall of the Ministry. He noticed that the Fountain of Magical Brethren, which had been so badly damaged in the fight with Voldemort, was now gone and replaced by something even more repulsive - a statue of Cornelius Fudge. He had not noticed it before in their rush to get to the reading of Sirius's Will and was now glad that he hadn't. The statue opened its mouth and said in that very familiar voice, "Welcome to the British Ministry of Magic." Then, Harry could have sworn the statue was talking to him directly but the voice was coming from behind him.

"Mr. Potter, so glad you could come. Of course, what would this party be without our guest of honor?" Harry swiveled around to see Fudge himself approaching him, wearing his familiar lime green bowler hat. "Ah, I see you're admiring the new statue. Remarkable likeness, isn't it?"

Harry simply stared in utter disbelief at the man beside him. How he had the audacity to even speak to Harry after what he did the previous year was unbelievable. Harry shot him a look of utter contempt which Fudge merely ignored.

Suddenly they were besieged by reporters. "Mr. Potter, can you tell us about You Know Who's return?" a short brown-haired witch asked. Immediately after, there came a string of questions from multiple voices. "What happened here in June?" "Where is You-Know-Who now?" "Do you have a girlfriend, Mr. Potter?" "Is it true that you were nearly expelled last year?"

Fudge looked alarmed at this last question and spoke up, "Ah, now that was just a little misunderstanding. Mr. Potter was forced to use a Patronus over the summer to save himself and his cousin from two Dementors. Mr. Potter's behavior has always shown impeccable strength of character and bravery, which is why he is being honored tonight." 

Harry stared incredulously at Fudge with complete loathing. "You were the one who-"

"Shh," Fudge whispered to Harry through gritted teeth as he grinned towards the reporters, "Just smile for the cameras, Harry." Fudge quickly took Harry's hand in his and started shaking it forcefully. Flashbulbs started popping all around them.

"Let go of me," Harry said with disgust as he wrenched his hand out of Fudge's tight grip and backed away. He pushed his way through the throng, ignoring the reporters' questions, as he searched the sea of faces for the Weasleys and Hermione. Finally, he saw several redheads in the crowd and walked towards them. But just before he reached them, he was stopped by someone to his left.

He turned around to see none other than Percy Weasley standing before him. "Congratulations, Harry. This is quite an honor the Ministry is bestowing on you. No one has received the Award for Extraordinary Acts of Bravery since Peter Pettigrew's legendary confrontation with Sirius Black."

"Pettigrew was a traitor and a Death Eater and he still is," Harry said with repugnance.

Percy was obviously somewhat taken aback, but then he looked up and stared at something just beyond Harry.

"Ohhello, Father," Percy said awkwardly to Mr. Weasley, who was now standing behind Harry with his hand on his shoulder. The rest of the Weasleys were now surrounding them and all were looking at Percy with a varied mixture of anger, surprise, and affection.

"Excuse me, I was taken to understand that you were no longer my son," Mr. Weasley said coolly. He spoke in a tone so far removed from the kind gentle voice Harry had come to expect that it sounded like a complete stranger speaking.

"Come now, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley said gently as she stepped between the two and embraced Percy. "Percy has seen the error in his ways." Percy nodded his head solemnly in agreement. "He's still part of the family, we must forgive him," she said kindly.

"No!" Mr.Weasley spat sharply and so loudly that numerous heads turned towards them. "The boy has shown his true colors and I for one want nothing more to do with him."

"But, Arthur, you can't mean that-"

"I assure you I do." Mr. Weasley turned on his heel and pulled Harry with him. "Come along, Harry, the ceremony is about to begin."

The ceremony was not particularly exciting. It began with several people Harry didn't even know getting up to talk about his defeat of You-Know-Who when he was a year old and the challenges he faced in his early years at Hogwarts. They were followed by Rita Skeeter, who quoted from her interview with him last year detailing the account of Voldemort's return and embellishing the story quite a bit in places with juicy bits of drama that never existed. By the time, they called Harry up to the stage to receive the award, he was too tired to argue and tell everyone the whole truth, so he merely accepted the award with as much grace as he could muster and felt incredibly relieved when the whole thing was over.

The ceremony was followed by a large reception, with bountiful tables of food and drink. But Harry could not think of eating when this was his last chance. He had to get to the Department of Mysteries and it had to be now. He looked around and saw Moody busily talking to a couple of older witches. "Perfect," Harry whispered to himself.

"Tonks," Harry said to the newly blonde witch, "Could you show me Auror headquarters? Are the training facilities here? You know, I want to be an Auror when I'm done with Hogwarts." He practiced these lines several times before leaving Grimmauld Place.

"Oh, sure, Harry," Tonks replied enthusiastically.

"Let me grab my cloak, just in case," Harry said as calmly and casually as he could.

After he retrieved his invisibility cloak from the office, Harry followed Tonks to the lifts. He actually did have to put on the cloak to escape the crowd unnoticed. And, fortunately, he never saw or felt Moody looking at him before the lift started rattling upwards to Level Two. 

Harry stepped out still wearing the invisibility cloak and began to follow Tonks. 

"You can take off the cloak now, Harry. There shouldn't be anyone around here at this hour."

"Nah, I think I'd better keep it on after what happened the last time. I didn't think there was anyone here then, but this place was filled with Death Eaters."

"Well, whatever suits you. It's weird giving a tour to a disembodied voice though."

"I'll stay right behind you so you know where I am," Harry lied.

As soon as the lift gates were no longer in sight. Harry turned around and sped back as silently as possible to the lifts. Fortunately, the golden gates were still open to the lift they arrived on. He stepped in and pressed the number nine button. The doors closed and the lift started to descend slowly and painfully loudly. Harry's heart was beating a mile a minute. This was it. He was finally returning to the place where it all happened, and he wasn't leaving until he had some answers.

  



	8. Ch 8: The Death Chamber

**Harry Potter and the Forbidden Passage**  
by Cendrillon Beaustylo

_Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

_Warning: This chapter is very serious and very dark and is not recommended for children. The themes are nothing I think Rowling would shy away from, but still some readers may feel uncomfortable with it. _**  
**

**  
Chapter 8: The Death Chamber**

  
Harry held his breath as the lift passed the Atrium level. He could still hear the sounds of the party beyond, but fortunately the lift kept creaking downwards. Finally, after what seemed like hours instead of seconds, the golden gates opened. A feminine voice spoke in a cool and airy tone, "Department of Mysteries." Harry stepped quickly out into the hallway and glanced around to be certain he was alone. The hall was dark and completely empty. The silence was deafening after all of the noise from the reception.

With only a brief look back at the lifts to be sure that no one was following, Harry walked briskly then started sprinting down the familiar corridor that haunted his dreams for a year. He looked determinedly at the black door at the end of the hallway and it flew open as he approached it. 

Harry paused briefly before entering the circular room. With one brief look behind him, he entered the room and the door slammed shut. The room looked just the same, completely black except for strange blue flames. And just as before, the room started spinning.

Wasting no time, Harry closed his eyes and yelled loudly. "Show me the room with the veil." The walls stopped spinning, making Harry instantly dizzy. He stumbled towards the door that had swung open before him. 

It was cold and completely dark inside, but Harry cautiously stepped through the doorway. Candles started to flicker on around the room, casting the large rectangular room with eerie light. There were no traces left of the incredible battle that had taken place here. No sign of Sirius or anything of that horrible day. The stone benches that were smashed were replaced and it looked painfully as though the rest of the world was trying to forget what had happened there. But Harry felt it in every fiber of his being, felt the pain of his loss more acutely than ever. 

He jumped down from bench to bench until he was standing on the stone floor of the sunken pit. The dais stood before him and the veil still hung in the old stone archway, fluttering ever so slightly as if there was a light breeze in the room. He walked towards the dais, feeling drawn towards it, like he was hardly in control of his feet anymore but compelled by some unseen force. 

He put one foot on the dais hesitantly and then the other and slowly approached the stone archway. There were the whisperings, the faintest noises coming from the veil but he still couldn't make them out. The voices were so low; they were like wind whistling past his ears. Harry pulled down the hood of his cloak hastily to hear more clearly. The cloak loosened and slipped off, falling into a shimmering pile on the floor behind him. But he didn't look back, his focus was now entirely on the veil. As he walked towards it, the voices became louder and a single word became clear - they were speaking his name. Many different voices, men and women, young and old, were saying, "_Harry_," in the softest whisper. 

Harry felt both fear and excitement all at once. He stepped closer until he was only a foot away from the veil. The whispers grew louder and more fervent with every step.

"Sirius?" Harry whispered. He stared at the fluttering veil as if he expected his godfather to step out of it at any moment.

"_Harry_," a man replied softly, soothingly. Harry's heart stopped and his knees gave way beneath him. He had almost passed out. He would have tumbled head first through the veil if he had not regained his balance just in time. There was no doubt in his mind, it was Sirius's voice calling back. Harry kneeled before the veil, not sure if he could handle standing up again.

"_Harry_," the familiar voice repeated, "_I'm here, just beyond the veil._" His voice sounded distant and ethereal, almost as if the words were resonating not from the air, but from within Harry's own head. Harry couldn't believe his ears, he had wanted to hear this voice for so long that he couldn't quite believe it was real. He pinched himself to be sure he was awake, that this wasn't just a new twist on his nightmares. He pinched so hard that his nails dug into his flesh and a drop of blood rose to the surface. It wasn't a dream.

Tears burned beneath his eyes as he let loose the flood of emotions that had been weighing on him since June. "I'm so sorry, Sirius. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have gone to the Ministry. I was sostupid. If I had studied Occlumency harder, if I had used the mirror-"

"_Don't worry, Harry. It's all right_," Sirius replied in a calm, soothing voice.

"How can it be? HOW CAN IT BE ALL RIGHT?" Harry yelled angrily between sobs. "You're in there and I'm out here. You'reyou're dead. It will never be all right again."

"_It will be when you join me. The afterlife is bliss, Harry. Here, you can have everything you've ever dreamed of. There are no wars, no troubles, no fear_."

"Come back, Sirius. If you're right there, why don't you come back?" Harry begged desperately.

"_I can't go back, Harry, and even if I could, I wouldn't want to leave. But you can come to me. It's so simple, just walk through the veil. I'm waiting for you on the other side_."

"But I need you here, Sirius. You can't leave me. I can't go on like this."

"_You don't have to, Harry_," Sirius said in a calm reassuring voice. "_You can join us here. Only a few steps and you'll be with us again. James and Lily are here with me_."

"Mum? Dad?" Harry asked uncertainly.

A sweet feminine voice called back, "_We're here, darling. We're right here. Your father and I have been waiting so long to see you. Your grandparents are here too, they can't wait to meet you. Just walk through the veil, Harry, and we'll be a family again._"

"_Don't be afraid, Harry_," his mother's voice called. "_Follow my voice_."

Harry's thoughts loomed briefly to the prophecy and his part in it. "But - Voldemort, the prophecy, I can't-"

_"Dumbledore can handle him, Harry_," Sirius said softly. "_Too many responsibilities have been placed on you for too long. You need to rest, you need to forget. Come through the veil and all of your worries will disappear. This is paradise, you have no need to fear. You will be with your family, you'll be happy again. Just walk through the veil_." 

A nagging voice in his head reminded him that if he walked through the veil he would die. But a stronger voice told him that it was all so simple, he only had to take a few steps and he would have everything he ever wanted, his family and his godfather. And maybe he didn't have to die, maybe there was a way out if there was a way in. Maybe he could save them all, he would find his parents and Sirius and bring them back to the world of the living. And if he did die at least he would be with them. He wouldn't be alone any more. 

Harry stood up and took a step closer. He would do it, he would go through and he would see them again. He would be with Sirius and his parents, did anything else really matter?. He held his hand out in front of him ready to pass through the veil. He closed his eyes and prepared to step through.

Just as his fingers were about to touch the veil, there was a loud shout behind him and he was pulled backwards off his feet. Harry soared back as if he was hit by something with incredible force and landed roughly on his backside against the stone floor before the dais.

"_Petrificus Totalus_," roared a terrible voice behind him. Harry was paralyzed flat against the floor, completely helpless. He struggled to fight the spell, but it was useless. He cursed himself for taking off the invisibility cloak. 

Bright emerald green robes and a long white beard appeared over him. Dumbledore kneeled down over him and looked at him under his half-moon spectacles. His face was lined with fury and sadness and Harry could feel the emotions radiating from him. Although he had seen Dumbledore angry before, he had never before been the object of his wrath. It was a truly frightening experience, and Harry now could completely understand why Voldemort was afraid of him.

Dumbledore took several deep breaths attempting to calm himself a bit. When he spoke, it was in a voice that held none of the usual patience or kindness. It was harsh and terrible, reminding Harry more of the Howler that Dumbledore sent to his Aunt Petunia the previous summer.

"WHAT IN MERLIN"S NAME WERE YOU THINKING?" he shouted, pausing between each word. He breathed in and out heavily again several times. Dumbledore's voice returned to a normal level but it was just as terrifying. "There are witches and wizards risking their lives on a daily basis to protect you from Voldemort and here I find you about to kill yourself. How can I protect you from him when I can barely protect you from yourself?" 

Dumbledore stood up and paced the floor in front of him. Harry felt his jaw begin to slacken, he was regaining some movement. He tried to speak, "I -"

"_Silencio_," Dumbledore demanded, swiftly turning to Harry with his wand outstretched. "Harry James Potter, you will lie there and listen to me until I am through with you." He paced again and let out a long sigh before turning back to Harry. 

"Do you have any idea what would have happened if you had walked through that arch? Let's not even consider Voldemort. Did you even stop to think of the people who care about you and what your death would mean to them? Not to mention the entire wizarding world."

_The people who love me are behind that veil and I could have been with them_, Harry thought hopelessly.

"I see your Occlumency lessons have not been successful," Dumbledore remarked with irritation. "Harry, how can I possibly get you to understand? There are many people here who love you. Many people here who would be just as devastated by your loss as you are by your godfather's. Have you even thought for a moment about the Weasleys or Remus? How do you think Remus would react if he lost you too? The man is on the edge as it is, he has been holding on for you alone."

Harry felt a pang of guilt at Dumbledore's mention of Remus. 

"You should feel guilty, Harry. If you had succeeded in your task tonight, if you had walked through that veil, can you even begin to imagine how many people might blame themselves for your death? For not being here, for not guarding you as closely as they could have, for not telling you how much they love you. And how many of them might end up here following you through the veil because they are so sick with grief or remorse?"

_Why would they blame themselves? I made the decision, there's nothing they could have done. They wouldn't have known._

Dumbledore turned and stared at Harry with his piercing blue eyes. "That's right. There's nothing they could have done, and there's nothing you could have done for Sirius. He made a decision, as you did tonight, to do something he knew he shouldn't. And in the end, perhaps there's nothing that anyone could have done to prevent disaster that night. Sometimes fate takes a cruel course but it always has an ultimate plan. 

"Imagine for a moment what the world might be like if your parents had not been murdered by Lord Voldemort that fateful night fifteen years ago. Voldemort would have been free and at the height of his powers for years to come. Muggleborns, like your mother and Miss Granger might have been eradicated. And perhaps much, much worse. The world as you know it would not exist. It could have been a much darker place, with millions around the world living in fear. Everything happens for a reason, Harry, even if we never know what that reason may be. 

"I know this is difficult and that it is probably the hardest thing I've ever asked you to do, but it is time for you to accept Sirius's death and go on with your life."

_But I heard him. I heard him through the veil. How can I forget that when he's right therewaiting for me._

"Oh, Harry," Dumbledore sighed, "You don't know what the veil is? Did Professor Binns never teach you about the Death Chamber?"

Harry thought guiltily of all the times he had slept in class. He tried desperately to recall any mention of the Death Chamber in any of the lectures that had permeated his constantly drowsy state in History of Magic, but couldn't remember anything.

"Ah, I see. Alas, you are more similar to your father in some ways than I would have liked. He was never too fond of History of Magic either. I realize Professor Binns may be a bit dull, but you, of all people, would benefit from paying attention occasionally in his class."

Dumbledore shook his head and sat down on a bench beside Harry. "This has been known as the Death Chamber for centuries. This was here long before the Ministry was ever built up around it. And even older than the room itself is that stone archway, which is so ancient that the origin is unknown. You see the benches that surround the dais, what does it remind you of? Perhaps the Wizengamot courtroom down the hall? Many people would come here to witness what happened on that dais."

Dumbledore was now looking sadly at the veil. "Harry, this room was used solely for executions for hundreds of years. By 1872, the Ministry decided to do away with the death penalty in favor of the Dementor's Kiss. But I would hesitate to say that the Kiss is a more humane punishment. 

"Death through the veil is quick and painless and one might even go so far as to say pleasant. Most wizards who were executed here walked through the veil quite willingly, having heard and been entranced by the voices of loved ones calling them from the beyond. But, Harry, the voices are illusions. The voice you heard was not Sirius, it was a creation of the veil. The veil is similar to the Mirror of Erised but with a much darker purpose. The veil is the entrance to the forbidden passage, the journey to the afterlife. You will hear the voices of those you've loved and lost and they will ask you to join them and use your most heartfelt desires to lure you through. But you have to think reasonably, would Sirius ever want you to die to be with him? Not the man I knew, not the man who would so willingly have given his life to save you.

"We can not be certain what is beyond the veil, the afterlife may be different for everyone. That is why death is studied here as one of life's many mysteries. Of the thousands of men executed here, only one wizard has ever seen the beyond and come back and he did not return to this world as he left it. If Sirius could return, you would have known by now. But that is not a future I would wish upon any man. I would hope that Sirius is in a much better place now as he deserves to be, not waiting eternally by the side of the veil."

Tears had started to brim at Harry's eyes but he was still too paralyzed to move a hand to wipe them away. He felt hollow with the pain. The voices were illusions, nothing but illusions. He still had no idea where Sirius was or if he was all right. 

Suddenly, he heard a noise coming down from above. It was a door opening. Now, there were four pairs of feet scrambling down the benches. 

"Harry! Are you all right?" a concerned voice called down. "Albus, what happened to him? He's not moving." 

"Oh, I'll never forgive myself," a feminine voice said with obvious fear.

The very worried faces of Remus and Tonks swam into view above him. 

"Calm down, Remus, he's fine," Dumbledore said as he held his wand over Harry. "_Finite Incantatum_."

Harry felt a soft tingle through his body as he regained the movement of his limbs. But he also regained feeling in his back, which was throbbing from the force of his fall against the stone floor. As soon as he propped himself up on one elbow, Remus swept him into a hug so tight that he thought he might pass out.

"I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you," Remus said over Harry's shoulder. "As soon as Tonks told me you disappeared, I knew where you would go."

Remus was here, he was alive. He looked tired and worn but alive and looking at Harry as if he were the only thing that mattered in the world. And suddenly Harry didn't want to pass through the veil anymore. 

Dumbledore held a hand out to Harry and helped him to his feet. "Now, Ms. Tonks," Dumbledore said, "Would you please escort Mr. Potter back to the reception. I need to have a chat with Mr. Lupin and I think the guest of honor has been missing for far too long."

Harry went to pick up his father's invisibility cloak, but it vanished before his eyes. When he turned around, Dumbledore had it draped over one arm. "I will be taking this for now, Harry. It will be waiting for you in your dormitory when you return to Hogwarts."

Harry stared angrily at Dumbledore but he quietly relented and followed Tonks. As he turned around at the top of the room, he could see Remus's grave face waiting for whatever Dumbledore would tell him. And Harry knew exactly what he would tell him. He didn't need to be great at Divination to know that he was going to be in deep trouble.  



	9. Ch 9: Punishment

**Harry Potter and the Forbidden Passage**  
  
by Cendrillon 

_Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

_Author's Note: Yes, it has been three weeks since the last update, but I'm also giving you the longest chapter yet! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed this story so far. Please continue reviewing. Reviews encourage me to write faster and update as quickly as I can. Lack of reviews does the opposite. So if you like this story and want to see more of it, please review!  
Oh, and many, many thanks to my sister who assisted me with this chapter._  


**Chapter 9: Punishment **

  
The drive home from the Ministry was anything but pleasant. Remus seemed to have a permanent frown on his face and avoided looking at Harry directly ever since he returned to the reception with Dumbledore. Harry could clearly see that Tonks was upset too, with emotions of both anger and guilt clearly radiating from her. Consequently, she hadn't let him get more than three feet away from her for the rest of the evening. 

To make matters worse, the Weasleys knew something was going on. How could they not? Tonks had apparently put everyone on alert as soon as she knew he was missing. The moment he had stepped out of the lift on the Atrium level, he was swamped with Weasleys, all demanding to know where he had been. But he couldn't very well tell them that he had almost killed himself, walking through the veil. So he lied.

"I just wanted to get away from the crowds," he had said. It seemed like a perfectly reasonable answer, since everyone knew he hated the attention fame had brought him. Tonks had glared at him and her hair turned red on the spot, which Harry was fairly certain she had not meant to do. But she didn't say anything to contradict him. Ron and Hermione had looked skeptical and exchanged a glance, they knew him too well and could tell when he was lying. But everyone else seemed to accept his answer and he just received a few admonishments from Mrs. Weasley for running off on his own without protection.

The car ride back to Grimmauld Place, however, was filled with an awkward silence that was only broken up occasionally by Mrs. Weasley, who remarked on something or other about the evening to try to encourage friendly chatter. But the rest of the car was silent. Harry looked down at his feet or out the window, avoiding the fact that Remus still couldn't bear to look at him, while everyone else was staring at him frequently. By now, all of the Weasleys had gotten the hint that something had happened, particularly after Harry was forced to reveal that Dumbledore had taken his Invisibility Cloak. The air in the car was filled with a nervous anticipation. They were all just waiting for answers and there was an open sense of relief for everyone but him when they arrived at Grimmauld Place.

It was pitch black outside when they returned, but Moody still used the Put Outer to extinguish all of the street lights before they were allowed to exit the car. Harry reluctantly stepped out, knowing that as soon as he entered the house, the questions would start. He didn't think that things could possibly get any worse, but he was wrong. 

When he entered the front door, he was greeted by the very grave face of Albus Dumbledore. Behind him stood all of the remaining members of the Order. Snape glared at him out of a dark corner with his arms crossed in front of him. And Professor McGonagall stood just behind the Headmaster, looking at Harry with red-rimmed eyes. 

Remus walked in behind Harry and put a hand on his shoulder. "Harry, go to your room," he said tensely, "I'll be with you shortly."

"But-"

"Go!" Remus demanded again, this time meeting his gaze.

"I think all of the children should go upstairs," Dumbledore said. "I am assembling an immediate meeting of the Order." He looked very somber and avoided looking at Harry.

Harry groaned and started walking up the stairs. He wanted nothing more than to lock himself up in his room and be left alone. It was quite obvious what the meeting was all about. Dumbledore would tell them all, even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, about what had taken place in the Death Chamber. And once they knew, it wouldn't take long before Ron and Hermione knew. 

"Ron, Ginny, you heard Professor Dumbledore," Mrs. Weasley said below, "Go to your rooms. You too, Hermione."

There were numerous protests from Ron and Ginny below. They were arguing vehemently that they were almost of age and deserved to know what was going on. But one angry threat from McGonagall to bar them from the Quidditch team shut them both up instantly.  


Harry quickened his pace in the hallway above as he heard footsteps begin to follow him up the stairs. "Wait, Harry," Ron called behind him. But he didn't wait, he kept walking straight to his room and didn't even pause to look behind. "Stop, Harry!" Hermione called desperately. He swung his door open and was just about to close it firmly behind him when he met resistance from the other side. But his strength was nothing compared to the combined forces of Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. The door was soon wide open with all three standing in the doorway with expectant and determined faces.

"Well?" Ron demanded, standing in the middle with Hermione backing him up to his right and Ginny to his left.

Harry crossed his arms, refusing to budge from his stance in front of the doorway so they couldn't enter. "Please, just let me be. I don't want to talk about it right now. You'll find out soon enough," he said wearily.

"We want to hear it from you. What's going on?" Ron said more forcefully. "Come on, Harry, you can't keep hiding things from us."

"Harry, we're not idiots, we know something's wrong," Hermione said frowning. "Can't you just talk to us about it? Why is Professor Lupin angry with you? And why did Dumbledore take your cloak? Where did you go tonight, Harry?."

"Are you deaf? I said I don't want to talk about it. Now, leave me alone!" Harry started trying to force the door closed again, despite heavy resistance from Ron and Hermione.

Ginny spoke quietly from the other side of the door, "Isn't it obvious? He went back to the Death Chamber."

Harry froze instantly, but Ron and Hermione didn't stop pushing. The door hit him square in the nose and knocked him flat on his already sore backside.

"Hey!" he yelled as they all took that opportunity to rush into the room.

"Oh, Harry, you did go there, didn't you?" Hermione said sadly, looking very disappointed.

He ignored her and turned to Ginny. "How did you know?"

"I know you've been thinking about Sirius a lot. Where else would you go but the place wherewhere it happened."

"All right, fine," Harry conceded, "I went back to the Death Chamber. Are you satisfied? Now just go!" He ushered them all out, despite Ron's and Hermione's objections.

The sound of the lock clicking in place was followed by swearing and angry mutterings from the other side of the door. Harry ignored them and flopped down on the bed, crossing his arms behind his head. He gazed up at the dark red velvet curtains, willing them to crash down and smother him. 

_At least they don't know what happened in the Death Chamber_, he thought. _ But they will, if Hermione hasn't already figured it out. She probably has, she probably knows all about the veil. And she'll think me a fool for nearly killing myself to follow an illusion. She'll get that disappointed look in her eye and tell me that I should have paid more attention in History of Magic or that I should have read such and such part of "Hogwarts, a History". I don't know why the veil would be in "Hogwarts, a History", but no doubt she'll find it._

_And what will Ron think? He'll be mad, probably won't talk to me for days. He won't understand. None of them will understand._

Harry sighed and turned to his side, leaning on his elbow and staring out the paned windows over the rooftops of London._ This must have driven Sirius mad_, he thought, _looking out over the city, while he was cooped up in here. No wonder he wanted to leave so badly. _

Harry's gaze dropped to the table next to the windows and saw his mother's diary lying upon it. He immediately reached over and picked it up. He paused before opening the book. The thought of what he had read in that book before, along with the nightmares about his parents, still caused apprehension, but, after everything that had happened, suddenly reading the diary didn't disturb him anymore. Things certainly couldn't get any worse than they already were.

Harry opened the diary and flipped a few pages in before he started reading.

_September 1, 1975_

_Well, you know what September 1st means - first day back at Hogwarts. I'm on the train right now, taking a break from my Head Girl duties. Everything has been fine so far (well maybe not exactly fine), proceeding as plannedwell almost_

_The day didn't start off so terribly. I woke up bright and early and everything was already packed and ready to go. All I had to do was put Frodo in his cage and Mum and Dad and I were off to King's Cross. Petunia, naturally, decided not to come, and I can't say I wasn't pleased with that decision. I hate the looks she gives all of my friends, treating them like specks of dirt that she's afraid will contaminate her._

_Anyway, I showed up an hour early for the train, trying to prove how seriously I took my new duties as Head Girl. Naturally, when I got to Platform 9 3/4, the place was completely deserted. No one really shows up for the train until at least a half hour before it leaves. But I wanted to be there in case any first years showed up early. _

_So, my parents helped me with my trunk and we headed straight for the prefect carriage. I must admit that I had another reason for arriving early - I wanted to avoid seeing James Potter when I stored my things in the compartment we had to share as Head Boy and Girl. But, much to my horror, when I slid open the compartment door, he was already there. Potter was just sitting there, reading a book, like he'd been waiting there for hours. _

_Then he had the nerve to introduce himself to my parents. And he called me Lily! He never calls me by my first name. He gave Mum that charming smile of his and told her he could now see where I got my good looks. Come on, Potter, can't you think of a more original compliment than that? But it worked a good number on Mum, who was completely taken in by him. He won Dad's approval too by helping with my trunk. _

_I, naturally, wanted to get my parents away from Potter as quickly as possible. But then, as if I hadn't already been mortified enough, he said something to my parents before they left that I could have strangled him for. He said, "I'm sure I'll see you both again soon." He sounded so confident, so full of himself. Why would he see them again? He was acting like we were a couple, like we were practically engaged. Well, I'll just have to make it clear that that is never going to happen. _

_But the damage was done. As soon as we were at the barrier to King's Cross saying our goodbyes, Mum started gushing over James and telling me how he seemed like such a nice boy and asked why I didn't date boys like him. Ha, if she only knew! And Dad just smiled in agreement with her. It certainly won't be a fond parting memory of my parents._

_After Mum and Dad left, the station was still empty, so I was forced to return to my compartment and try to have a civil conversation with Potter. I thought he would start hitting on me again when I returned, but he just read his book while I skimmed the Prophet. I could swear he was looking at me sometimes over his book though._

_Finally, some first years showed up and I was going to help them, but Potter beat me to it. I don't know what he's playing at. We all know that James Potter doesn't have an ounce of responsibility in his body._

_Needless to say, the rest of the trip hasn't been very pleasant. After giving instructions to the prefects, I've spent most of my time watching over Potter to be sure he didn't abuse his position by hexing students at random._

_When we arrive at Hogwarts, Potter and I are supposed to take the lead carriage so we will be the first to arrive at the school and can oversee things from there. I can see the castle now, so we'll probably be stopping at any moment. I'd better go find Potter and get ready to leave._

_So, now it's the wee hours of the morning and I'm sitting on the sofa in the Gryffindor common room. I can't sleep, so I thought I'd update on the rest of the day. The second half hasn't been any better than the first half, in fact it's been much, much worse. I feel sohorrible and it's all Potter's fault._

_Naturally, as soon as the train had stopped, Potter had disappeared. I stood outside the doors to the Great Hall for a half hour, doing my duty, before he finally showed up with Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew in tow. _

_Well, I reamed out Potter royally in front of all of his friends. I told him what an arrogant irresponsible prat I thought he was and how he had stolen the Head Boy position from his best friend. That Dumbledore must have been more of a fool than I thought to give him a position with any responsibility. _

_I was prepared for Potter to lash back, perhaps even to curse me, but not to stand there like an idiot staring at me. Oddly, Lupin seemed to be the one who was angry and Black and Pettigrew had actually started laughing hysterically. It wasn't until I heard a voice calling my name that I realized why they were laughing. Dumbledore was standing directly behind me. He didn't look angry, but disappointed, and he asked me to come to his office after the feast._

_I was so nervous and frightened during dinner that I couldn't eat a thing. I'm just starving now! I wish I could go down to the kitchens. Anyways, as soon as the feast was over, Dumbledore beckoned me to follow him to his office. I thought he might take away my position. After all, I criticized his choice and I have to admit that I wasn't acting very professional when I yelled at Potter in front of the other students._

_But I'm still Head Girl. Dumbledore just asked me to be patient and explained why he made Potter Head Boy. And now I feel so consumed with guilt that I'm sitting in front of the fireplace writing this at three in the morning. Dumbledore told me the most shocking thing, Potter actually saved Snape's life last year! The way he acts toward Snape, I thought he'd be glad to be rid of him permanently, but maybe he doesn't really hate Snape as much as i thought. What's more, Dumbledore said that Potter risked his own life and stood up to his friends to save his worst enemy. It's difficult for me to admit, but maybe I've been wrong about him. If James can be kind to Snape, surely I can bring myself to at least bear his company, can't I? Well, I promised Dumbledore I'd give him a chance, and- _

_That's strange, I just heard a noise by the portrait hole, and when I looked outside, no one was there. But when I returned, there was a tray of food left where I was sitting. Hmm, maybe it was one of the house-elves. It certainly was nice of them anyways. At least I'll have some dinner after all. _

Harry smiled, reading these last words, because he had a good idea who brought the tray, and it wasn't a house-elf. He felt a great deal better than he had before until the voices downstairs brought him harshly back to reality. He heard the front door close several times, suggesting that the meeting must be over. He cracked open the door to see if Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were gone, but their doors were all closed and the hall was empty. He pulled out a set of Extendable Ears and crept to the top of the staircase.

"Go," he whispered to the Extendable Ears and they instantly shot out, snaking down the banister into the hall below.

It was Mrs. Weasley's voice he heard first, she was weeping. "I can't believe Dumbledore. Harry wouldn't do something like that!"

There was a familiar sigh that Harry recognized coming from Remus. "You haven't seen him much this summer, Molly. He's extremely depressed. When Sirius died, he felt like he lost his only hope for a family."

"But he's like family to us. Doesn't he know how much we love him?"

"I know how much you care for Harry, Molly, but it's not the same. Harry's deepest desire has always been to have his parents back, and Sirius was the closest thing he has ever had to that. Sirius and James were like brothers and I know that Sirius loved Harry like a son."

"He's like a son to me also," Mrs. Weasley argued.

"That may be the case, Molly, but you have seven children. And you can't deny that if you had to make a choice between any one of them and Harry, you would choose your own children." Remus paused before he added, "As you should."

"Well, I don't know about all of them," Mr. Weasley said with disgust. "I would certainly take Harry right now over Percy."

"Arthur, you don't mean that!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed in outrage. "Oh," she said with shock in a small, sad voice as she obviously realized what she was admitting. What Remus had said was clearly true.

"Don't fret, Molly, it's perfectly understandable. Listen, it's very late now and I'm sure you've both had a long day and I'd hate to make it even longer. But, Molly, please don't mention this to Harry. He needs to return to some level of normalcy and I think it would be best if he was not reminded of tonight's events."

"Harry nearly killed himself! We can't just act like nothing happened. We've got to do something. Let me talk to him," she said urgently.

"I will handle it, Molly," Remus said firmly, "He is my responsibility now, and I assure you that I will deal with the situation."

"But-"

"Molly," Mr. Weasley interrupted, "Let it be. I'm sure Remus will do what is best for Harry."

"Trust me, Molly," Remus said, "Trust me when I say that Harry's safety is more important to me than anything else in the world. And I will do everything in my power to protect him."

Mrs. Weasley was weeping again quietly. 

"Come along, Molly dear, you're worn out and it's late, let's go upstairs," Mr. Weasley said to his wife sympathetically.

As Harry heard movement below, he quickly retracted the Extendable Ears, praying that they wouldn't be seen or heard zooming back up the banister. He moved as quickly and quietly back to his bedroom as he could, shutting the door softly behind him. He waited with baited breath as he heard footsteps out in the hallway. They paused by his door and he heard Mrs. Weasley utter a small sob before the footsteps continued and faded as they went up the next flight of stairs. Only a few seconds later, there was another set of footsteps and a soft knock on the door.

Harry froze where he stood. He knew very well that Remus was on the other side, waiting to talk to him. But this would not be a pleasant conversation and he wasn't sure if he could handle the guilt from causing more pain for a man already so sick with grief. 

"Harry," Remus said through the door, "it's me."

Harry took a deep breath and opened the door. Remus looked more careworn than ever. His face was pale and it looked like he had aged another ten years in a matter of hours. 

"Sit down," Remus said as he entered the room. Harry sat down on the bed and Remus pulled up a chair to sit across from him. Harry looked at him with trepidation, nervous about what he might say.

"I'm not going to yell at you, Harry," Remus said finally after a long silence passed between them. "I don't have the strength for it. And I'm not going to ask you why you did it. I know why you did it. It's not like I haven't thought about that sometimes as well. But, Harry, that's the easy way out. There are things in this world worth living for, and sometimes we have to remind ourselves of that. For me, _you_ are worth living for."

The guilt wrenched at Harry again like a vice. He didn't know what to say.

Remus continued, "I could tell you that you have to live for the sake of the world, but I want you to forget the prophecy. I want you to live for the people who love you, for the future that your parents and Sirius would have wanted for you. Many, many people care about you, Harry, and I thought your birthday party would have proven that to you. You do have a family of sorts, a motley group perhaps, but one that will warmly welcome you if you're willing to accept them. And someday, I hope you'll grow up like your father with a family that you will create with a wife who adores you."

"Not very likely..." Harry grumbled, thinking that he probably wouldn't live to see that day. 

Remus sighed deeply. "All right, I can see that you're not willing to listen to any of this right now and I'm sure Dumbledore already had a long talk with you, so I'll get to the point. Harry, pack your trunk. Dumbledore thinks you should return to the Dursleys."

"WHAT! But Sirius would never-"

"No, he probably wouldn't, but I am not Sirius, Harry," Remus emphasized. "No matter how much you want me to be him, it will never happen. Sirius is gone, Harry, and it's time for you to accept that. He's not coming back. You have to stop being haunted by shadows of what might have been."

"I didn't mean-"

"I'm sorry, Harry, but I am responsible for you now and I have to take that job seriously. I obviously can't protect you here and there is some level of protection over you when you are living with the Dursleys that no spell or charm can replace here at Grimmauld Place."

"You can't be serious!" Harry said desperately, laughing slightly out of sheer disbelief. "I can't go back to them, that would be even worse."

"And I don't want to send you there, Harry, but I have to do whatever I think would be best for you. And what would be best for you right now is keeping you alive. The protection your mother left you with with your aunt and uncle will also protect you from yourself."

"I don't believe this! How can any of you think that sending me back to them would be best? Uncle Vernon would sell me off to the nearest Death Eater if he could."

"I hardly think that's true. Your uncle is now aware of the situation and recognizes how important your safety is." Remus sighed again and looked at Harry. "Harry, are you aware that it's only two days until the full moon?"

It actually took him a moment to understand what Remus was really saying. When he did, he paled as an intense wave of guilt washed over him. He hadn't thought of Remus's condition at all lately. Could his timing have possibly been any worse? It was no wonder that Remus looked so tired and pale.

"N-no," he stammered in response.

"No, I don't suppose that you would. You've been rather busy with your own problems, haven't you? Well, in any case, I'll be going away for a couple of days and I need to be sure that you'll be safe while I'm gone."

"Where are you going?" Harry asked. "Why can't you stay here? Snape is making you the Wolfsbane Potion, isn't he?"

"Yes, Professor Snape has been kind enough to continue brewing the potion for me, but I think Molly would prefer it if I spent my transformation somewhere else. I'm going to my cottage. My parents built a house deep in the woods after I was bitten to provide a safe place for me to transform, away from civilization. It's little better than the Shrieking Shack, but it's home."

The mention of home reminded Harry of something. "But this is your home too, and mine. Sirius left this place to both of us and I don't want to leave. You can't send me back to the Dursleys," he said confidently.

Remus gave a short laugh. "You are far more stubborn than James ever was. You must get that from Lily. All right, Harry, if I let you stay, you have to listen to and obey Mr. and Mrs. Weasley while I'm gone."

"Sure. Fine," Harry agreed quickly. He was grinning. This wasn't nearly as hard as he thought it would be.

"Wait, I'm not finished. You also have to accept whatever punishment I give you."

"Punishment?" he questioned, the grin vanishing instantly. "But you said you understood."

"I do understand why you did it, but that doesn't mean don't deserve to be punished. You risked your life, you treated Tonks abominably, and you ran off without any guards in the middle of the Ministry of Magic. There could have been Death Eaters there, just waiting to find you alone." Remus shook his head. "No, Harry, you have to be punished."

"Fine," Harry muttered, "what do I have to do?"

"You have to write a letter apologizing to Tonks and you have to clean out the attic. We need an extra bedroom here, so the attic's going to be converted."

"But it's huge!" Harry protested. "And I can't even walk in there, it's filled with so much stuff. It will take me weeks to clean out that place!"

"Precisely." There was an odd look of satisfaction on Remus's face. "If you're cleaning out the attic, it will occupy your mind and you won't be locking yourself up in your room anymore and brooding all the time. Speaking of which, the charm on this room has been removed and Dobby has been ordered not to replace it. So no more hiding in here away from everyone."

Harry groaned. This was going to be miserable. 

"You do have a choice, Harry. You can either accept the punishment I have chosen or you can go back to the Dursleys."

"That isn't a choice!"

Remus looked like he was struggling not to roll his eyes. "Get some sleep, Harry, you're going to need it," he ordered as he stood up and walked to the door.

Harry thought it would be difficult trying to sleep after everything he had experienced that day. But as soon as his head touched the pillow, he started to drift off a little too quickly. He didn't have time to empty his mind and his last thoughts loomed, not on his parents or Sirius for once, but on what he may discover when he entered the Black attic tomorrow.

  



	10. Ch 10: Shadows of the Past

**Harry Potter and the Forbidden Passage**  
  
by Cendrillon 

_Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

* * *

**Chapter 10: Shadows of the Past **

  
He was walking down the corridor at the Department of Mysteries. The sound of his shoes hitting the stone floor resonated in the empty hall. The black door loomed directly in front of him. He reached out for the knob and turned it. Immediately the torches on the walls extinguished themselves and there was complete darkness. He reached in his robes for his wand to illuminate his surroundings, but gas lights started to flicker on as he turned around. The cold stone corridor was replaced with wood flooring and peeling wallpaper, but the black door remained. 

There were voices beyond the door, many whispers calling his name just as they did behind the veil. He reached out his hand to open the door again. He turned the knob slowly and the door creaked open. But the doorway was blocked. It was stacked with boxes and crates from floor to ceiling. It was like a brick wall blocking any passage, but the voices still called him from the other side. 

One of the boxes jutted out towards him. He pulled it out, setting it aside. The box above fell down and took its place. He removed another box and the same thing happened. The voices grew louder and more urgent. He removed another box and another and another until finally there was a space just large enough for him to crawl through. He stepped over a crate through the small space he had created and found himself faced with another wall of boxes and the voices had become still louder. 

He needed to see what was behind the boxes. In his frustration, he pulled out his wand. Before even uttering a spell, a blast of light emitted from his wand, sending the boxes flying in every direction. They crashed open, revealing their horrible contents. He watched in horror as house-elf heads rolled around on the ground. A large glass jar shattered and a viscous red liquid oozed out and seeped in between the large cracks in the wood floor. On the opposite side, a crate broke in two, releasing hundreds if not thousands of tarantulas which were now creeping across the floor, up the walls, and even on the ceiling. 

Amidst the chaos, he hardly even noticed that the voices had stopped and there was no trace of where they had come from. In the area beyond where the boxes once stood, the room appeared to be empty except for an object in the center covered in a white sheet. It was about three feet tall and awkwardly shaped.

He felt compelled to remove the sheet but afraid at the same time. He pinched the edge of the sheet and pulled quickly, jumping back as he did so. He gasped. The sheet had slipped away to reveal Kreacher's Petrified body. Kreacher looked as though he had turned to stone, and even his coloring had changed to a sickening shade of gray. 

Harry reached out to touch the house-elf and felt something as cold and hard as a rock. But the surface beneath his fingertips changed immediately at the touch, becoming warmer and softer with every second. Harry watched in frozen silence as Kreacher's natural coloring returned. Kreacher's fingers started to move, he was coming back to life. 

The elf started cackling, just as he had when he lied to Harry about Sirius's whereabouts. "Master is gone. Master is not coming back. Kreacher will be alone with his Mistress again." His cackling grew louder.

The elf started walking towards Harry aggressively with a mad look in his eyes. "Kreacher must not allow filthy half-bloods to befoul the house of his Mistress. Get out, Harry Potter!" He looked menacingly at Harry.

"How dare you!" a voice bellowed behind Harry. He knew that voice, he knew it by heart. He wanted to turn around, wanted to see the owner of that voice. But he was frozen in place, unable to move or to speak.

The voice continued yelling at Kreacher. "How dare you talk to my godson that way! You traitorous scum! This is his house now and you are no longer welcome."

Kreacher was now bowing so low that his long nose touched the floor. "Master! No, Master is dead! Kreacher is not understanding." Kreacher was whimpering to the floor, not daring to look up. 

Harry couldn't understand either. How could this be? It couldn't be him, it was impossible.

"You will understand very quickly, Kreacher," the voice thundered. "Get out of my sight or I will finish you as I should have long ago!" 

The prostrate form of Kreacher vanished right before his eyes. 

"It can't be. It can't be," he whispered to himself. As feeling came back to his limbs, Harry turned around and saw him standing not more than three feet away. He was pearly white and translucent, but it was him.

"Sirius?" Harry whispered.

"Yes, Harry, it's me." He smiled fondly and laughed in that way he always did, sounding more like a bark. "I was starting to think you'd never find me. I've been waiting up here for months."

Before Harry could say anything in response, Sirius started to fade away, as if he was vanishing just as Kreacher had, but much more slowly. His pearly white form was becoming more and more transparent. He looked frightened and reach a hand out towards Harry.

"Sirius!" Harry screamed.

"Harry!" Sirius yelled back in a voice that remained crystal clear.

"NO, SIRIUS! NOOOOOO!!!"

But Sirius was gone and everything had faded to black. A voice still penetrated distantly calling his name.

"Harry! Come on, Harry!" It took him several moments to realize that this voice no longer belonged to Sirius, it was Ron.

"Harry! Get up, mate!" Ron said desperately. Suddenly, Harry felt a cold splash of water against his face.

"HEY! I'm up," he said angrily, wiping his face with his sleeve before opening his eyes.

"Sorry," Ron said apologetically. "You had me scared there for a moment. I've been trying to wake you up for ten minutes now. It wasn't You-Know-Who, was it?"

"No," Harry answered wearily. But even as he denied it, he put a hand to his scar and realized that it was prickling. It didn't seem like a dream that Voldemort would have influenced, but then why was his scar throbbing dully? "Well, at least I don't think it was him."

"What do you mean you don't think so? Does your scar hurt?" 

"Well, yes...just a little."

"We should tell someone then. Come on, let's find Lupin," Ron said, pulling on Harry's arm. 

"No!" Harry protested vehemently.

"Harry, it could be important!"

"No, it's not important," he said quickly. "It was just a dream, just a dream."

"It's never _just _a dream when your scar is hurting. I'm getting help," Ron said with finality as he walked back to the hallway.

Harry got up out of bed and pulled him back in the room. "No, Ron, please don't."

"Well then tell me what the hell is going on!"  
  
"It's justI don't think it has anything to do with Voldemort. I mean they'll know why I dreamt what I did, and I don't want them to know about it. I just dreamt about the attic, don't worry about it. It was nothing. Really nothing."

"Harry, you were screaming like your life depended on it. That isn't nothing. And why were you dreaming about the attic?"

Harry sighed. "Because Remus is punishing me by making me clean it tomorrowor todayWhat time is it anyway?"

"Four o'clock when you woke me up. And since when do you call him Remus?"

Harry shrugged. "Since he asked me to."

"So, are you going to tell me why he's punishing you?"

Harry swore. "Ron, do we really have to go through this again? I told you I went back to the Death Chamber."

"And"

"AND WHAT?" Harry screamed angrily.

"Shh, you'll wake the girls if they're not already up." He looked anxiously towards the hallway through the open door. "Harry, you've been my best mate for five bloody years, I know when you're keeping something from me."

Harry groaned and leaned over, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes in frustration. "Fine," he sighed heavily, "I'll tell you." He stood up. "I might as well get it over with," he muttered. "Come on, let's go downstairs. You'll probably be the one screaming when I tell you and I could frankly use a cup of tea right about now."

Ron gave him a questioning look before following him down the dark staircase.

"Harry, there's someone down there," Ron whispered.

"I'm not blind, Ron. I can see that," he whispered back irritably. There was a shaft of light coming up from the staircase that led down to the kitchen. "It's probably just Dobby."

"Yeahmust be," Ron said uncertainly.

Without pausing, Harry pulled the door open wider and climbed down the stairs. Ron followed two steps behind. As he reached the foot of the staircase, he peered into the kitchen, fully expecting to see Dobby cleaning or preparing for breakfast. Or perhaps it would be Remus reading a book by the fire. But he never would have expected this . What he did see made him instantly turn and motion Ron to return upstairs, but it was already too late. 

"Potter," sneered a cold, hard voice, "I might have expected to find you sneaking about in the middle of the night." Snape was sitting at the kitchen table and rolling up a large piece of parchment that had been spread in front of him. The curtains of greasy, black hair framing his face glistened in the glow of the fire. 

Harry glared back at him. "I was just getting a cup of tea," he said between clenched teeth. 

"Oh really," Snape said coldly, "and were you 'just getting a cup of tea' last night when you ran off and the headmaster found you mere inches from death?" 

"What's he talking about, Harry?" Ron asked quietly, looking utterly confused and bewildered.

Harry put up a hand toward Ron to silence him as he continued to stare at Snape.

"And what exactly are you doing here in the middle of the night?" Harry responded heatedly.

"Manners, Potter. You didn't really think that the headmaster would leave you alone again here with these incompetents, did you? No, Potter, someone has been scheduled on duty here round the clock to be sure you don't attempt anything else quite so foolish as to take your own life."

Harry's hands clenched angrily into fists by his sides as he tried with great difficulty to suppress his anger. Ron, on the other hand, had immediately jumped at the words and was advancing furiously towards Snape.

"Harry would never do something like that!" Ron yelled at Snape in outrage.

"Ron, don't! Stay out of this," Harry urged. 

Ron turned around and looked at him incredulously. "But, Harry, he just said that youHow can you let him-"

"Ron," Harry urged again quietly, unable to look directly at his best friend, "please don't."

"But," Ron said breathlessly, "Harry, tell me you didn't?"

The corners of Snape's mouth curled in an evil grin. "Ah, I see poor Mr. Weasley has not been privileged with an account of the night's events yet. Well, let me rectify the situation."

Harry shook his head and flashed his eyes angrily at Snape, telling him without words to stop what he was doing. Snape just stared coolly back and his grin became even broader. 

"Sit down, Weasley," Snape ordered. 

Ron's eyes were wide with alarm as he sat down on the bench and looked fearfully back and forth between Harry and Snape.

"You see, Weasley," Snape said coldly, "Potter here decided it would be amusing to return to the Department of Mysteries last night. He persuaded an Auror to take him away from his bodyguards at the reception and then he deceived her and proceeded alone to visit the Death Chamber."

"I know Harry went to the Death Chamber, he told us," Ron said, not quite understanding what was going on.

"Do not interrupt me, Weasley," Snape responded sharply. "What Mr. Potter has not told you was that the headmaster found him when he was just about to walk through the veil. Apparently, your so-called friend was ready to join his reckless godfather in death."

Ron shook his head slightly. "You're lying," he said quietly in disbelief, his brow was furrowed. 

"I assure you I am not," Snape replied icily. "And should you make any further insinuations upon my character, Weasley, I will be forced to speak with your parents, something that I would rather avoid as much as humanly possible."

Snape turned his attention to Harry. "You know, your father was quite foolish also, Potter. But I've underestimated you. You're far more idiotic than he ever was. Your father may have been arrogant, but he never would have been so stupid as to approach the veil."

Harry was seething with rage. If he could use magic, Harry had little doubt that he now had the will and the desire necessary to perform the Cruciatus curse properly. Without quite realizing what he was doing, Harry picked up a heavy iron flagon. He wanted to hurl it at Snape's head, he wanted to hurt Snape, just as Snape had hurt him. But he caught sight of Ron who was staring at him, begging with his eyes to tell him that it wasn't true. The iron flagon dropped out of his hands and crashed onto the stone floor with a loud clang. Harry sank to his knees as if all the energy had drained from his body. 

His mind was swirling so terribly that he was hardly able to pay attention to the fact that someone was racing down the stairs two at a time. 

"What's going on here?" Remus had now appeared at the foot of the staircase, looking in bewilderment between Harry, Ron, and Snape. "Harry, are you all right?"

"Oh, don't let him fool you, Potter's just fine. We were just having an honest discussion. It seems that Weasley here hadn't been informed yet of last night's little mishap," Snape said coolly.

"And you thought it your place to tell him, Severus? Before Harry even had the chance?" Lupin replied with dismay. Lupin shook his head in disgust and kneeled beside Harry, helping him to his feet. "Harry, why don't you go back to sleep?"

"Here, Potter," Snape said, holding out a clear flask full of a purple liquid, "you could probably use this. Your mind is far too open tonight. It's a potion for dreamless sleep. Only a few drops will do, the headmaster would be disappointed if you should become comatose. I daresay it would be easier to control you though." 

"And what do you think Dumbledore would say if he heard this conversation?" Lupin answered icily, as he took the flask and handed it to Harry. 

Harry walked slowly, wearily back to the stairs.

"Oh, Potter, haven't you forgotten something?" Harry stared back at him but didn't move. "Yourtea," Snape said as he conjured a cup in midair.

Harry shot him a look of the deepest loathing, turned his back and returned the way he came. The last thing he heard was Ron asking in a stunned voice, "So, it'strue?"

* * * * *

When Harry awoke the next morning, he found that he had slept in for several hours and that it was much closer to lunch than breakfast. When he opened his bedroom door, he was surprised to find Tonks stationed in a chair across from it. Her hair was now bright white, short and spiked and she glared at Harry over a pair of thin sunglasses.

"Long night?" she said coolly. 

"Look, I'm sorry," Harry said immediately. "It was wrong to involve you. I just needed to see it again. Things got out of hand."

"I'm not here for apologies. It's my turn to watch you and you're not getting farther than a few meters away from me this time."

"I'm not going to try anything again. It was a stupid mistake. Can't anyone stop treating me like a child?" Harry said in frustration. 

"Not until you stop acting like one," Tonks said with a smirk. Her tough, angry exterior had instantly vanished to be replaced by the fun, happy personality he was most familiar with. "Oh, come on, Harry," she said, looking much cheerier than she had a moment ago, "let's go down and get something to eat. You made me miss Molly's wonderful breakfast, waiting for you to get your lazy arse out of bed."

"It's quiet," Harry remarked as they headed down to the kitchen. "Where is everyone?"

"Oh, they're around. To tell you the truth, Harry, they were all pretty upset when I showed up this morning."

"They don't want to see me," Harry accidentally said aloud as he thought the words.

"No, I reckon they probably don't. You're not the most popular man this morning, Harry. Well, except in the papers. Here, this ought to amuse you." She passed him a copy of the morning's _Daily Prophet_.

"_Ministry Gives Long Overdue Thanks to the Boy Who Lived_" was splashed across the front cover. It was accompanied by a photograph of Harry shaking the Minister's hand, or rather Fudge shaking his hand. He was pleased to see that he looked sufficiently appalled in the photograph. 

"Oh, Harry dear, you're up." Molly Weasley was standing next to the stove when they entered the kitchen. She had quickly wiped her eyes with her sleeves when they entered and Harry couldn't help but notice that her eyes were still red and swollen from crying. But she was smiling now and clearly trying her best to put on a brave face in front of him. Harry's guilt quadrupled instantly and his stomach lurched. He had to look away, he could not see her face again.

"Sorry," Harry said quietly, "I guess I must have slept in."

"Well, of course you did," she said kindly. "That was a strong sleeping potion Professor Snape gave you."   


If she knew about the sleeping potion, than she probably knew about everything else. Had Ron told her? Or was it Remus?

"You must be starving," she said, "it's almost time for lunch, but there are a few scones leftover from breakfast. I've kept them warm in the oven for you." She pulled out a tray with a few raisin scones and placed them on a plate in front of Harry and Tonks.

"Thanks, Molly, these look fabulous" Tonks said appreciatively as she grabbed a scone and began spreading jam on it.

"Well, Dobby insisted on lending a hand, so half of the credit goes to him," Mrs. Weasley said warmly. "It's rather nice to have some help around the kitchen for once. You'd think with seven children that one of them would occasionally help with the cooking."

Tonks chuckled. "I'll help you anytime, Molly. Just say the word," she said seconds before she knocked over her glass of juice.

Mrs. Weasley looked behind at the mess. "Umthat's quite all right, dear, I think I have enough help at the moment with Dobby here."

Tonks waved her wand and vanished away the mess instantly and effortlessly as though she were used to this happening on a daily basis. "Oh, Harry, don't worry about that letter Remus told you to write to me," she said dismissively. "I know you're sorry, you don't need to tell me in writing. You know, he's just trying to be all responsible and parental. Becoming a right bore, if you ask me."

"That's not fair, Tonks," Mrs. Weasley said quietly. "Remus deserves credit. He'she's a good parent for Harry," she admitted with seemingly great difficulty. "He's trying to give Harry some guidance. Sometimes parents have to be difficult with their children to protect them."

A few tears tumbled down her cheeks. She wiped them quickly. "Excuse me," she laughed slightly, "it's just these blasted raw onions," she muttered, trying but failing to sound cheerful. She turned back to face the stove, where there were no onions in sight. She began stirring the contents of the cauldron in front of her quite rapidly.

Harry felt nauseous. He looked at the half scone left in his hand with distaste and set it down. 

"I don't think I'm hungry anymore," he said abruptly as he rose from the table. "I think I'll justget to work on the attic."

He could not look at her. He could not sit there and pretend that nothing had happened and ignore her tears. He had to get away, anywhere that would take him away from anxious looks and worried faces.

"Wait, Harry, you've hardly had anything to eat since lunch yesterday," Mrs. Weasley called from below as he walked up the stairs. Harry waved his hand dismissively to indicate that he was all right, but continued up without looking back.   
  
Solitude was not to be found though as he bumped into Mr. Weasley and Remus in the portrait hall. It looked like they were in the midst of a conversation when Harry interrupted them. Remus held an old suitcase in his left hand. 

"Oh, Harry, you're up. Good," Remus said. "I was just on my way out and wanted to say goodbye before I left."

"You're leaving already?" Harry asked.

"Yes, I need to take care of some business while I'm up there. Listen, I'm sorry about the punishment. Maybe I was a little hasty. If you don't feel up to it, you don't have to. We'll figure out something else when I come back."

"No, it's all right. Really, I don't mind." What Harry didn't say and couldn't say in front of them was that he really welcomed the opportunity to seclude himself. Cleaning the attic right now sounded a hundred times better than being with Ron and Hermione, who would no doubt want to ask him loads of questions he wouldn't want to answer. He couldn't even stomach the thought of looking at them right now and felt very fortunate that he had been able to avoid them since he woke up.

"Well, all right, if you're sure," Remus said uncertainly. "I've had Moody take a look at the attic this morning. He didn't see anything there that you should have a problem with. It's mostly old clothes and furniture. You can find Doxycide, Magical Mess Remover, and other cleaning products in the linen closet on the third floor. If you do have a problem, give a shout out, one of the Order members will be stationed outside the attic door. "

"He'll be fine, Remus," Mr. Weasley emphasized. "Don't worry."

"Right, then," Remus said slowly, still looking at Harry with a worried expression. He made no motion to leave.

"I'll be fine, really," Harry added, rolling his eyes. "Nothing's going to happen, I promise."

"All right, well, see you in a couple of days. Bye, Harry," Remus said as he gave Harry a one-armed hug. "Good-bye, Arthur," he said as he shook Mr. Weasley's hand. Within seconds, he was gone.

Harry resumed his path up to the attic, walking as quietly as he could past Ron's and Hermione's doors and up to the next level. This floor was completely empty at the moment, as it only contained the bedrooms of Remus, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Fred and George, who weren't staying there currently. One more flight up was the bedroom that had once belonged to Sirius's mother, which Tonks was now using occasionally. Even Buckbeak was gone now, having returned back to Hagrid's care after Sirius's passing. 

At the end of the narrow dimly lit hallway was the door to the attic. It was indeed painted black just as it had been in his dream, but the paint was worn and peeling. Instead of an ordinary round door handle, the handle was pewter and shaped like a serpent. It was dusty and tarnished and left a streak of rust and grime on his palm when he touched it. The door creaked slowly open to reveal a very old, steep wooden staircase. Light did not penetrate further than a few steps. 

Without the ability to illuminate his wand, Harry realized he would need some other light source to continue. Returning to the linen closet on the third floor, he gathered several candles and a bucket of supplies, making sure to bring plenty of dust rags. He lit one of the candles and proceeded up the narrow staircase. The stairs creaked beneath his feet, and planks seemed to be missing or rotted through in several places. What was more distressing was the odor that became stronger with every step he climbed. It was an odd and foulsome mix of mold and decay, with a stronger scent that reminded him of rotten meat. He coughed and held a clean rag over his nose after he dropped the bucket on the attic floor. 

Harry raised the candle and surveyed the area around him. It was a fairly large space, about the size of two bedrooms and filled with objects piled high and scattered randomly. There were a lot of boxes, some trunks and plenty of furniture and other objects. Everything was covered with a thick layer of dust while much of the furniture was covered with sheets. 

He directed the candle light toward the floor to find a clear path to walk through. He found the path and something else besides. There were small strange tracks in the dust. Harry followed the footprints that wound their way along a narrow path and ended in front of an old couch. On the couch there was on old tattered blanket and a few crumbs, along with a couple of framed photographs and a few odds and ends. 

At first, Harry was confused. Had something been living up here? But the blanket and pictures reminded him of something. He looked back at the footsteps again. They belonged to a house-elf. Then he remembered how Sirius had found Kreacher in the attic before. It looked like he had certainly spent some time here. It was probably the only place in the house where he could completely avoid everyone.

It would be too dark to get any work done if he didn't find any other light source. After scanning the room, he found sconces along the walls with half-melted candles. He lit them each in turn until the room was bathed in soft yellow light. 

As he looked around, the job seemed overwhelming. The room was full of objects and it was filthy. Space would need to be cleared before anything could be done about the dust and cobwebs and general cleaning. He could not fathom how this place could ever be habitable. 

Separating the furniture from the junk was probably the first step. Finally he decided to start with a nearby trunk. Harry put his hand on the latch warily, briefly expecting something terrible to come out of it, a boggart per chance or maybe something worse. Memories of his nightmare from the previous night came flooding back. He opened the lid cautiously and looked in to find it completely empty. 

The next two hours passed by fairly quickly as Harry opened boxes and sorted them, throwing away clothes, knick knacks, and possible dark arts objects into the empty trunk. On the whole, it hadn't been that bad so far. The worst thing he'd found so far was the skeleton of a dead rat, which hardly phased him. It could have been much, much worse. There were no house-elf heads, jars of blood, or objects that one could only find in Knockturn Alley.  
  
When Tonks came up to check on him, she fortunately found the source of the smell- a Bundimun had been hiding beneath the floorboards near the top of the staircase. Fortunately, there was only one, so the damage wasn't that severe, but it explained why the staircase was in such bad condition. After Tonks destroyed it with a simple Scouring charm, the decay smell vanished, but the mold and must still made it difficult to breathe. 

The few magical items he had found didn't seem to be all that dangerous. There was a mirror that called him a filthy half-blood, which he accidentally threw a little too hard into the trunk, shattering it into hundreds of pieces. One of the more troublesome objects was an old broomstick whose handle was broken. The broomstick bucked and rose towards the ceiling refusing to be placed in the trunk. The trunk itself seemed to be magical because it never seemed to get full no matter how much junk Harry threw into it. 

He had just opened a new trunk with the initials R.B. on the top, when he heard footsteps on the stairs.

"I'm fine, Tonks," Harry called out loudly. She had come in every half hour to check on him and he was starting to get annoyed. 

The footsteps continued up the stairs.

Harry rolled his eyes and looked back at the trunk. Lying on top of a pile of old robes was a green and silver tie and scarf, exactly like Draco Malfoy's. 

"What's that?" someone said from right behind him, it was definitely not Tonks. Harry spun around. Ginny was standing there holding out a tray with a sandwich and a glass of pumpkin juice.

"Must be Regulus's trunk," Harry answered. "What are you doing here?"

"Mum sent me up to help you. She thought you might want this," Ginny said as she handed him the tray.

"Thanks." Harry set the tray on a table he had cleared off. "But I can handle this on my own. It's my punishment, I'll deal with it."

"You think I want to spend my afternoon up here cleaning out some dirty old attic?" Ginny asked incredulously. "Harry, I don't have a choice. Mum's punishing me too."

"Why?" 

"WellI kind ofput something in Professor Snape's food at breakfast," she said evasively. "Mum just found out."

"You what?" Harry asked dumbfounded.

"Iput one of Fred & George's hair shrinking potions into his porridge," she confessed quickly.

Harry laughed out loud. "What happened?"

"Well, he came back when we were all eating lunch and he was livid. He knew one of us had done it. I don't know why he was so mad, it didn't even make him bald like I had hoped. His hair just shrunk to about an inch." She paused and picked up the Slytherin tie. "Actually he doesn't look half bad with shorter hair," she mused.

"Ginny!" 

"What?"

"You're worse than Fred and George. Even they wouldn't have dared to do that to Snape. Why'd you do it?" he asked jovially.

Ginny shrugged, she was no longer smiling. "Ron told me what he did last night."

"Oh," Harry said quietly. 

"How are you organizing this?" she asked, switching subjects gratefully to the task at hand.

"Everything we're throwing away goes in that trunk and everything we keep goes on the sofa. I'll have someone look through it all later."

Harry got up to help her sort through Regulus's trunk but Ginny motioned him to sit. "Eat your sandwich, I'll go through this," she said.

After he started eating, he realized that he truly was hungry. All of the work must have made him famished. He had just swallowed the last bite of his sandwich when Ginny let out a small gasp. 

"Oh my God!" she said as she looked with shock at something in the bottom of the trunk. 

"What is it?" Harry asked anxiously.

She turned to him with a huge grin and lifted something out of the trunk. She held up a robe with lime green, brown, and turquoise stripes. "These must be the ugliest robes I've ever seen. I bet they're from the 70's. I can't believe anyone would ever even wear these."

Harry laughed. "I've never thought Slytherins had any taste."

She wrinkled up her nose with disgust as she threw the robes in the discard pile. "I hope my parents never wore anything like that. Bet Fred and George would wear them, just for laughs."

"Probably," Harry replied. "At least Ron's dress robes weren't quite that bad."

* * * * *

With two people, they had managed to do the job much more efficiently and had cleared half of the space by the end of the afternoon. The time passed quickly and even enjoyably with Ginny there. She never once asked him a single question about what had happened at the Ministry, for which Harry was very grateful. But it was starting to trouble him. 

"Ginny?" he asked tentatively.

"Hmm?" she responded, distracted as she looked through some old papers.

"Why haven't you asked me about last night?"

She put down the papers and looked up at him with surprise. "You said you didn't want to talk about it."

"I don't I just-"

"You do," she said quietly. "You want to talk about it, you just don't want people to be angry or disappointed in you."

Harry didn't know what to say. When had she become so perceptive? It was like she knew exactly what he was feeling before he even did. 

"We've got all day tomorrow to talk," she offered. "I think we should break for the night shortly. Help me move this desk first, something's lodged behind it."

Harry pulled as Ginny pushed the very heavy mahogany desk away from the wall. Once Ginny was able to dislodge the object, Harry resumed the task he had left. He paused when he heard her gasp loudly.

"Not more striped robes?" Harry joked.

"Uh" she was still staring at whatever the object was, "I think you should see this." 

Harry walked around to her side of the desk and followed her gaze down to the flat object resting against the wall. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. 

"Prongs?" Sirius called, blinking sleep away as he looked up at Harry from the portrait of his 15-year-old self.

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

_ Next Chapter: Ch. 11 "A New Portrait"_

_The next chapter will also be the last before Harry and company pack up and head back to Hogwarts for Year Six and another grand adventure. Look for it before Christmas hopefully (but no sooner than three weeks). Looking for something to read in the meantime? Check out the deleted scene for chapter 6 if you haven't read it yet or my short story "Twenty Years After". _

_Oh, and if you're wondering what a Bundimun is, read Newt Scamander's (J.K. Rowling's) "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them"_ _or check out the Harry Potter Lexicon site._

_Many thanks to everyone who has reviewed, you guys are the best!_

  



	11. Ch 11: A New Portrait

**Harry Potter and the Forbidden Passage**  
  
by Cendrillon 

_Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended._

_Author's Note: I had hoped to get this chapter out by Christmas, but obviously that didn't happen, so what can I say but...Happy New Year 2004! I actually decided to split up what I had originally planned for this chapter into two separate chapters, so that I could provide an update a little faster. This chapter is still longer than usual. I'll try to work on chapter 12 this week, while I have time off from work, and that should take a lot less time than this one. Since the plan for this chapter has been cut in half, the end of the summer will be in chapter 12 and they will be on the Hogwarts Express in chapter 13 now._

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**Chapter 11: A New Portrait **

  
Harry stared at the portrait. Sirius looked very handsome, not all that dissimilar from his appearance in Snape's memory. His black hair fell gracefully around his face. His eyes were bright with laughter and youth, they bore none of the hardship and sorrow Harry had grown accustomed to seeing in his godfather's gaze. He looked happier than Harry had ever seen his godfather when he was alive. This was not the haunted visage of a man who had spent twelve long years in Azkaban.

"James?" Sirius asked again from the portrait.

Harry took a step backwards and tripped. He collapsed into an old armchair behind him. He sat unmoving, yet stared with shock at the portrait, hardly able to comprehend what he was seeing. The air was suddenly thick and suffocating, breathing became difficult. He couldn't speak, it took all of his strength just to stay conscious.

"You all right, mate?" Sirius asked with confusion. "What's wrong with him?" he asked Ginny. "And who are you? Are you related to Evans?" he asked, eyeing her red hair.

Ginny also looked shocked but she seemed to be handling the surprise much better.

"NoI'm Ginny," she explained, "and this is Harry. He's James's son."

Sirius laughed loudly. "Ha! Good one. As if you could ever be a father, Prongs!" Sirius joked as he turned his attention back to Harry.

"Sirius," Ginny said delicately, kneeling down in front of the portrait, "you don't understand. The year is 1996, you've been up here for many years."

Sirius looked confused for a moment and then burst out laughing. "Nice prank, Prongs. So where are Remus and Peter hiding?"

Harry and Ginny shared a worried glance.

"They're not here, Sirius," Ginny said gently, still looking at Harry, "but Professor Lupin will be returning in two days."

"Professor?" Sirius laughed. "Now you're stretching it a bit, don't you think? Remus could never be a professor. He's not even all that good at transfiguration."

"No, really, he taught Defense Against the Dark Arts," Ginny explained. "He was a wonderful teacher."

Sirius raised one eyebrow in confusion. Then he looked at Ginny and flashed a brilliant smile. 

"Ginny, was it? Listen, no offense or anything, but you could learn a lesson or two about timing when it comes to pranks. The key is to know when to give up a joke. I'm sure my corporeal self would be happy to give you private lessons in pranking," Sirius said devilishly and winked at Ginny.

Ginny blushed and her jaw dropped slightly in surprise. 

It took Harry several seconds before Sirius's words penetrated and he understood what was going on. Had he just heard and seen what he thought he did? True, the Sirius in the portrait thought he was fifteen, but this was so strange and felt so, wellwrong. Harry felt the need to step in as Ginny was now the one stunned into silence.  
  
"She's telling the truth," Harry said quietly, still shocked by the portrait's behavior.

Sirius groaned, "Not you too, Prongs! Come now, where's Moony really? I need to talk to someone with some sense."

"It's the full moon. He's transforming," Harry answered simply.

"Prongs!" Sirius yelled angrily. "What are you doing?" He lowered his voice to a whisper, "You can't talk about that in front of her." He nodded his head toward Ginny.

Harry looked at the portrait in bewilderment. "She knows he's a werewolf and I am _NOT_ James!" he said with exasperation. As much as he had wished for his godfather to come back to him, this was not what he would have expected. 

Sirius looked like he was about to protest again, but Harry put a hand out to silence him.

"Wait," Harry said, "I can prove it to you. I'll be right back." He ran down the stairs two at a time, barely missing some of the large cracks in the damaged floorboards. Flinging open the door, he saw the sleeping form of Mundungus Fletcher, who was stretched out in a chair next to the attic door. Harry rolled his eyes as Mundungus let out a huge snore. He crept by quietly and hurried on.

By the time Harry reached his bedroom, he no longer thought about the noise he was making and threw open the door which slammed loudly against the wall. He went directly to the wall and removed the photographs of his parents' wedding and the one with Sirius holding him as a baby. He turned, prepared to hurry back to the attic when he bumped directly into Hermione, who was standing in the door frame. 

"Harry?" she asked. "What are you doing?" She looked at him with concern.

Ron came up behind her. "Oh, Harry, you're back," he said somewhat roughly. He smiled it seemed with difficulty. "Good. Wellwhere's Ginny? Mum wanted me to tell everyone that supper will be ready in five minutes. And we have to be on time since there's going to be a meeting afterwards."

Harry looked at them both briefly, slightly puzzled, and pushed past them. "I don't have time for this," he said abruptly. He felt annoyed. Who cared about mundane things like supper when he had just found something so important? He climbed swiftly up the staircase back to the attic. Ron and Hermione followed. 

"Wait, Harry!" Hermione called breathlessly. "What's going on?"

Harry questioned briefly whether he should tell them or not. But Ginny already knew, so did it really matter? What harm could possibly come of it? "We found Sirius's portrait," Harry yelled back down to them as he climbed the stairs. 

Hermione let out a sharp gasp behind him. "What?" she asked in astonishment.

"A portrait? Of Sirius?" Ron repeated incredulously.

"Yes!" Harry said impatiently.

They had reached the upper floor. Mundungus was still stretched out on a chair in front of the black attic door. His head was tilted back, resting against the wall, and his mouth was slightly open. He was snoring loudly and showed no signs of waking. 

Harry turned around and signaled for Ron and Hermione to follow him quietly. They tiptoed past Mundungus and Harry opened the attic door. The door creaked slightly and Harry glanced worriedly at Mundungus. After reassuring himself that Mundungus was still sound asleep, Harry motioned for Ron and Hermione to go in and he followed them, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could manage.

When they were halfway up the staircase, Hermione said, "Harry, you can't really be seri-," she paused as she looked over to where Ginny was kneeling beside the portrait, "Oh my"

"I don't believe it" Ron whispered as he stood beside Hermione.

Sirius was looking back at them equally perplexed. "And you are?" he asked.

"Sirius," Ginny said, "this is Hermione and my brother, Ron."

"He doesn't know us?" Ron asked in confusion.

Ginny stood with her back to the portrait and whispered, "He thinks he's fifteen. There is no memory of any of us. He even thought Harry was James Potter. Be careful what you say. And be prepared, Hermione, because he'she's a little flirtatious," she said, blushing. 

She turned to Harry, "Did you bring the proof?"

"Yeah," he answered, showing her the framed photographs.

"I think those will work," Ginny said.

Harry looked down at the portrait, not sure of how to proceed. Should he show him the pictures first or try to explain? Sirius seemed to be looking at them all with curiosity.

"None of you go to Hogwarts, do you? You're certainly not Gryffindors at least," Sirius said somewhat disparagingly. "You're not Slytherins, are you?"

"_NO_!" Ron exclaimed with disgust. "We're all in Gryffindor."

"Impossible. I would _certainly_ remember any girls in my own house as lovely as the two of you," Sirius replied, turning his gaze a little too directly to Hermione and Ginny.

"Hey!" Ron said angrily.

"Oh sorry, is she with you?" Sirius asked Ron apologetically.

"Well, nobut that's beside the point," Ron said, blushing. "You're old enough to be her father!"

Sirius laughed heartily. "How do you possibly see that happening? I'm only fifteen and she looks about the same."

"But you're not, Sirius," Harry said. He knelt down before the portrait, so that he was eye level with Sirius's face. "It's 1996, you _would be_ old enough to be her father."

"Prongs? What are you on about?" Sirius asked with concern as though he were questioning Harry's sanity.

Harry sighed, he was obviously getting nowhere. "I am _not_ Prongs. My name is Harry Potter, my father was James. Look, my eyes are different than his and my nose is smaller. And I've had this scar since I was a year old," he explained, pushing the hair back from his forehead to reveal the permanent scar that Voldemort had created so long ago. Sirius looked confused, but still disbelieving. 

"Here, look at this," Harry said as he held up one of the photographs. "This picture was taken at my parents' wedding. See, there you are and Remus." He avoided mentioning the burnt out hole that was Peter Pettigrew. He held up the second photograph. "And here's a picture of you holding me when I was a baby. You had just been named as my godfather."

"Hold on a moment," Sirius said, "James married Lily Evans?! Butbut she_ hates_ him!"

"Well, that changed a bit," Harry replied indignantly. 

Sirius looked intently at Harry. "Green eyesLily's eyesYou really are their son, aren't you?"

"Yes!" Harry said earnestly. Finally, he was beginning to understand. But Harry could not have prepared himself for Sirius's next question.

"All right, I believe you," Sirius said sincerely. "So, where are Lily and James? And where is my corporeal self?"

Harry was stunned. He felt like he had been smacked across the face.

"You'rethey're de-"

"They're departing," Hermione said quickly, sitting down beside Harry, "forfor a mission overseas." Harry shot her a questioning look, but she returned it with an expression that told him not to say a word. "They're Aurors, so it's all quite secretive."

Sirius started to talk with excitement about the idea that his future self had become an Auror, but Harry's focus was on Hermione now. Why had she lied to him? Wasn't it better for him to know the truth?

His thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Weasley's voice calling up the stairs. Harry looked at the portrait and panicked. He didn't want anyone else to find out about the portrait yet, although he wasn't quite sure why. Picking up a white sheet that had covered an old mirror, Harry threw it over the portrait, causing a small gasp of protest from Sirius. 

"_Don't say a word_," Harry whispered to the rest of them. 

"Ronald Weasley!" she called angrily. "I asked you to call everyone down to supper several minutes ago. We don't have all night. The other Order members will be arriving shortly. And now you've forced me to interrupt everything to climb several flights of stairs looking for all of you," she panted as she reached the attic floor.

"What are all of you doing up here anyways? Ginny, Harry, I'm surprised you didn't come down hours ago," Mrs. Weasley admonished as she surveyed the room. She walked toward the portrait. 

Harry's eyes followed her movements anxiously. He breathed a sigh of relief when she reached out above the portrait to the wall sconce.

"Look at these candles, they're almost out," she said. "Well, I'll ask Arthur to see what he can do about creating some lighting in here tomorrow morning. Come along, then, all of you. There's no time for dawdling."

They all followed her silently down the stairs. Harry went reluctantly, looking back at the portrait as he went. 

Supper was a very hurried affair, not only because of the impending meeting but because Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione had so much more on their minds that they ate as quickly as possible and did not speak during the meal. 

Harry was anxious to get back to the portrait. He had to make sure that it wasn't a dream. It was too wonderful to be real, Sirius was alive again. It may not have been the way he had imagined, but never the less, it was him. He could talk to Sirius again. He would find out things about his parents, he would have someone to confide in, he would have his godfather back. 

As soon as Harry felt he could leave, he did. But he wasn't alone, Hermione caught up with him in front of his bedroom door.

"Harry, could we talk?"

"Now?" he asked wearily.

"Yes, Harry. Please?"

He sighed in annoyance. "Fine, let's go in my room." What on earth did she want to talk to him about? And why now of all times? She knew what was up there, what was waiting for him in the attic. 

Harry sat on the bed and watched as Hermione paced the floor in front of him. She was not quite willing to sit and look at him directly. She looked disturbed, like she had something difficult to say but didn't know how to say it. An unwelcome thought occurred to him.

"This doesn't have to do with what happened last night at the Ministry, does it?" he asked warily. 

Hermione paused in her pacing but remained silent.

"Because if it does," Harry continued, "I don't-"

"No, it's not that," Hermione interrupted. "But I do want to discuss that when you're ready. And I hope you'll open up about a few other things as well. That's not what I want to discuss now though." She paused and looked away.

"Harry, I need to talk to you about the portrait and I don't think you'll like what I have to say," Hermione said, casting her eyes determinedly away as she stood before him. "Harry, I don't think it's wise for you to interact with that portrait anymore, not yet at least."

"What? Why?" Harry asked, aghast.

Hermione sighed. "What are you going to do the next time he wants to know about your parents or himself? Harry, you can't tell him that they died. Did you truly see him, Harry? He's young and happy. He has never experienced the kind of loss that you have or that Sirius had. And he doesn't deserve to have that knowledge thrust upon him. It could destroy him."

"It's just a portrait. How could knowing the truth possibly destroy him?"

"Even portraits have feelings, Harry. It wouldn't be right to tell him what has happened."

Harry looked at Hermione in confusion. "You can't really be suggesting that I should forget about it? That I should just let it go as though it never existed."

"Actually, that's exactly what I'm trying to say."

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "No. NO! I can't let him go again. _I can't_! How can you even ask me to do that? Do you have any clue how much that portrait means to me? Hermione, that's Sirius up there!"

"That's just it, Harry. It's not Sirius," she said sadly.

"Of course it is. You saw him." 

"No, Harry. The boy in that portrait is not the man that you knew. He doesn't even know who you are. And as much as you may want him to be, Harry, he is not your godfather and he never will be. He has never known the hardships that made Sirius the man he was as you knew him. And to tell him the truth about what has happened to himself and his friends would be unspeakably cruel."

"I can't believe you, Hermione. This is ludicrous!" Why was she acting this way? She was his best friend. She should be happy that he had Sirius back again, not telling him that he should never see the portrait again. 

"I know how much you miss Sirius," she said sympathetically. "I do too. But that portrait will not replace him. And I don't think it's wise for you to have something like that to help you dwell on him. Having the portrait around won't heal the grief, it will just intensify it. Over time, you would note all of the differences between the portrait and the real Sirius and you would miss him even more."

"No, you're wrong," he said angrily. "Hermione, you can't take this away from me!"

"Harry, I think we should talk to Dumbledore. He'll know what to do. We can do it this evening. If he says that it's fine for you to keep the portrait, then I will agree and I won't say anything more about it."

"It's not up to you or Dumbledore what I do with the portrait!" Harry said angrily.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione whispered as she walked out and closed the door behind her. He heard her quick footsteps as she went down the stairs. Harry immediately jumped up, flung the door open, and raced after her.

"Wait, Hermione. DON"T!" he screamed after her. 

It was too late. She had already knocked on the door and interrupted the meeting. The door opened and Professor Snape appeared.

"Potter, Granger, what is the meaning of this?"

"I need to speak to Professor Dumbledore, sir," Hermione said urgently.

"We are in the middle of an important meeting, Miss Granger, and the headmaster is a very busy man. Whatever you would like to say will have to wait," he snapped in reply. Snape began to close the door in her face, but a voice behind him called out.

"Wait, Severus," Dumbledore said as he emerged from the doorway. "We have only just begun the meeting and I am aware of everyone's reports. So while the rest of you give your updates, I will have some time available to speak with Miss Granger. I daresay she wouldn't have interrupted us for something of no importance."

"Very well," Snape replied, glaring at Hermione. 

Dumbledore closed the door behind him and his eyes alit on Harry. "Ah, Mr. Potter, so good to see you up and about with your friends. I hope you are feeling better today?"

"Quite," Harry replied through clenched teeth, trying to control his anger at Hermione.

Dumbledore looked at him for a moment with intensity before speaking. "Now, Hermione, what is it you wanted to tell me? I assume Harry is involved."

"Yes, well" Hermione looked nervously to Harry who was staring at her threateningly. She looked away. "Well, sir, Harry and Ginny found a portrait of Sirius today in the attic. Only he's just a teenager in the portrait, only slightly younger than us."

"Ah, this is a curious development." Dumbledore smiled and his eyes twinkled mysteriously. "Very interesting. Very interesting, indeed." He stroked his beard in thought. "And you say that he is fifteen or so in the portrait?"

"Yes, he said he was fifteen," Hermione answered. "He doesn't recognize Harry or anyone and he doesn't know about anything that's happened since before Harry's parents were married. He thinks he's still attending Hogwarts."

"Hmm, I wonder" Dumbledore said quietly to himself. 

"Professor," Hermione asked cautiously, giving a furtive look to Harry, "could we speak privately for a moment?" Harry shot her a look that could kill as she and Dumbledore retreated into an adjacent room.

A few minutes later, they emerged and Dumbledore approached him. "Harry, I'm afraid I must agree with Hermione on this issue. And I would suggest, at least for the time being, that the portrait should be removed from the premises. However, I would not take it without your permission."

Harry looked at Dumbledore incredulously and shook his head. Of course he would say no. Dumbledore knew very well how he felt, Hermione must surely have told him. What was he playing at?

"Harry, please hear me out," the headmaster said cautiously. "I believe that this portrait may be able to help us in the fight against Voldemort."

Harry interjected, "How can a portrait-?"

Dumbledore waved a hand to silence him. "Sirius worked privately on a secret project for the Order of the Phoenix, which was unbeknownst to any of us. In fact, it was only revealed to me after his death. But, alas, the project was unfinished and I'm hoping that this portrait of Sirius may have the knowledge to complete it."

"But," Harry said, "we told you, he doesn't remember anything for the last twenty or so years."

"That may not matter," Dumbledore replied. "According to Professor Lupin, this project is linked to something that Sirius and your father worked on while they were attending Hogwarts. Now, Harry, may I have your permission to take the portrait back with me to Hogwarts? You will, naturally, be allowed to visit it in my office whenever you like." 

Hermione and Dumbledore both looked expectantly at Harry, waiting for his answer.

Harry was confused. He didn't want to give up the portrait, of that he was certain. There was nothing he had wanted more in the world than to have Sirius back and now he was, in a way. But then again, how could he say no? If the portrait was to aid the Order, how could he deny Dumbledore's request? 

Harry's thoughts strayed back to Sirius. He imagined his godfather sitting in the kitchen, working by the light of the fire late into the night on this mysterious project. Despite having been locked up in this house, Sirius had tried to find some way to be helpful. And if Harry did not release the portrait, Sirius's last efforts may have all been for naught. There was no question what his answer had to be, as much as it pained him.

"All right," Harry said, defeated, "you can take the portrait." Dumbledore looked proudly down at him. "Only," Harry added, "could you just leave it for a couple of days? Give me a little time."

"Certainly," Dumbledore said, nodding his head with understanding. "Thank you, Harry. I know that was a difficult decision to make, but I am confident you have chosen well. However, for the moment, I will ask you to heed Hermione's advice and not release information about your parents, Sirius, or the Order. I will advise everyone else to do the same." 

After Dumbledore returned to the meeting, Hermione turned to Harry with a hopeful smile and said cautiously, "See, it was a good thing we told him about the portrait, right? If it can help the Order"

Harry glared icily at her and turned his back, leaving her alone in the room as he returned upstairs. It wasn't that he disagreed with her entirely. After all, he had made the conscious decision to give up the portrait. But he was still upset that she had gone against his wishes and involved herself where she had no right to do so. It was difficult for him to believe that she would ever stop interfering in his life.

Becoming even angrier the more he thought about it, Harry stormed through the portrait hall. He glanced at the empty brick wall Sirius had erected over his mother's portrait and stopped abruptly. He stared at the empty space and made a decision. Something had to be returned to its rightful place, the place where it should have been hung with pride for the last twenty years. It was time to set things right, if only for a short time.

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_Chapter 12: There are still two weeks of summer to go and everything leading up to September 1st. This will include Hogwarts letters and a trip to Diagon Alley. This chapter should have bits of humor, emotion, action, adventure, danger, and maybe even a little romance. Expect this chapter to have a much faster pace and the center of attention will start to shift unbelievably off of Harry._

  



	12. Ch 12: Expectations

**Harry Potter and the Forbidden Passage**  
  
by Cendrillon 

_Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to the creative mind of J.K. Rowling and I am not receiving any monetary compensation for this story. I am merely borrowing the characters for my own and your amusement during what will no doubt be a long wait for Book 6.   
_

_Author's Note: Thank you, Ozma, my Sugar Quill beta-reader, for the editing and to all of my reviewers for your gracious support. Now I ask for your support once again when I warn you that this chapter has a big cliffhanger (i.e. please no reviews telling me I'm evil for using cliffhangers). J.K. uses cliffhangers in every chapter and I am trying to make this story as Rowlingesque as I can. Thanks!_

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**Chapter 12: Expectations**

  
Harry awoke the next day to a bleary, rainy London morning. The weather matched his mood perfectly. His anger at Hermione still lingered, leaving him irritable. And he'd had little sleep as the nightmares had continued. To make matters worse, his muscles and joints ached from all the bending and lifting he had done in the attic.

One thought however brought a smile to his face. He would see Sirius again today, looking out at him from his portrait. Harry had moved the painting the previous night to hang over the exact spot where Mrs. Black's portrait had been before.

After getting dressed, with no small amount of pain due to his sore muscles, he walked downstairs to go to breakfast. He couldn't help grinning as he saw the portrait of Sirius.

"Morning, Sirius," Harry said in greeting, stifling a yawn.

"Morning, ProngsHarry. Sorry, but you do look just like him," Sirius replied as he studied Harry's appearance.

"So I've been told," Harry responded with mild irritation as he was once again reminded that this portrait was not of the man he knew as Sirius. Ever since he had seen Snape's memory of his father in the Pensieve earlier that year, he felt some distaste whenever he was compared with him. 

"Harry," Sirius said frowning, "I should warn you, that red-haired bloke was cursing you this morning for something."

"Ron?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Right, that's him."

"What? Why?" Harry asked, puzzled. He frowned. Why would Ron be mad at him? He had acted perfectly normal last night. 

"Dunno," Sirius answered, shrugging, "but it seemed to start after that girl left this morning." As Harry looked at Sirius in confusion, Sirius added, "Not his sister, the other one."

"You mean Hermione? She left?" Harry asked, surprised.

Sirius nodded. "About an hour ago. She seemed upset, but she was very nice when she said goodbye. Said she'd visit me at Hogwarts. It will be great to see the school again. Anything's better than this house," Sirius said, looking around the portrait hall with disgust. "I wonder if that charm that James and I placed on the Slytherin common room is still in place?" he said to himself wistfully, tapping his finger against his chin.

While Sirius continued to prattle on about some prank that he and James had pulled off in their fourth year, Harry's focus was now entirely on Ron and Hermione.

"Yeah, well...see you later, Sirius," Harry replied absently as he started walking away, confused as he thought about his friends.

He entered the kitchen apprehensively, not quite sure of the reception he might receive. Harry saw that Fred and George must have slept over after the meeting the previous night and were lingering on for breakfast. They were seated with Ron and Ginny at the long table. Fred, George, and Ginny were bent over the table and laughing at some object that Fred was holding. Ron, on the other hand, sat a little apart from his siblings and seemed to be pushing the food around on his plate, while accomplishing very little towards actually eating it. There was no doubt - he was angry.

Ginny looked up, still laughing. "Oh, good morning, Harry."

"Morning," Harry replied in greeting to everyone.

"You slept in again," Ron replied coolly, unwilling to meet his eyes.

"Yeah, well, I had a rough night. Didn't get much sleep if you know what I mean. And I had a really hard day yesterday," Harry replied defensively. 

"Yeah, real tough day, I'm sure," Ron said sarcastically.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked heatedly.

"Well, it's not everyday you alienate your friends. Oh wait, I forgot, it is everyday - _for you_!"

By these last words, Ron was on his feet and shouting. Harry gaped at him in outrage. Ron had never acted quite like this before. He had always been Harry's support against Hermione whenever she contradicted him. 

"Ron!" Ginny said sharply in warning, but Ron continued his tirade.

"You know, Hermione left this morning," Ron said angrily. "She went back to her parents' home for the rest of the summer."

"Yeah," Harry said quietly, looking down at the plate of eggs and bacon that Ginny had passed him. "Sirius told me a few minutes ago. That's good...I mean she hardly ever spends time with her parents anyway." He tried to sound as though nothing was out of the ordinary, that it was only natural for Hermione to want to go home.

Ron was fuming, he looked angrier than ever as Harry tried to justify Hermione's absence. "I should have figured. And did that portrait also tell you that she left because you're a bloody git?" His voice rose with every syllable. 

"Wait just a minute here!" Harry said in outrage. "What did I do? She's the one who had to go running to Dumbledore and meddle in _my_ business. She was telling me to forget about the portrait, to never speak to Sirius again! Whose side are you on anyway?"

"Hermione's!" Ron shouted without hesitation. "She's been a much better friend than you lately."

Harry was steaming. Why was Ron so mad at him? He hadn't done a bloody thing to Hermione, s_he_ was the one who had betrayed _him_, not the other way around. What had he done to deserve this kind of abuse from his best friend? 

"Well, if she's so much better," Harry spat, "then what are you still doing here?" 

As soon as he had said the words, he regretted it, but Ron had just stretched his temper to the breaking point. 

"Hey," George stepped in, "shut it, you two. You don't want Mum to hear you fighting."

Fred looked at Harry more cheerfully and cast him a mischievous glance. "Don't mind our little bro, Harry. He just misses his girlfriend."

Ron blushed and glared at Fred. "She's not my girlfriend," he replied forcefully. "I mean she's my friend and she just happens to be a girl, but she's not - Hey! Stop laughing!" 

The twins were shaking with uncontrolled mirth and Ginny seemed to be having difficulty holding back as well as she covered her mouth with her hand, trying to suppress whatever sound wanted to escape.

"Harry, tell them!" Ron demanded.

Harry struggled to contain his own grin. "They really are just friends," he finally said, trying hard to keep a straight face.

"Oh, Ron, calm down. They were just trying to get a rise out of you," Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

"And apparently it worked," George added, still laughing softly.

"Yeah, we know you and Hermione will _never_ be anything more than friends," Fred said, smiling devilishly and trying to look serious. "At least at the rate you're going," Fred muttered, too softly for Ron to hear. Fred's comment was met with another bout of uncontrollable, infectious laughter from George. Both twins were in tears and doubled up from their laughter in moments.

Ron surveyed his brothers, looking cross and confused. "You're both a pair of nutters," he said, shaking his head. Then Ron looked at Harry as though he expected him to explain this strange behavior. 

Harry smiled and shrugged. "They're your brothers." If Ron truly didn't realize what everyone else had seen for ages, then Harry wasn't about to be the one to explain it all. He had long ago decided to keep himself out of this situation at all costs.

Ginny's grin disappeared as she turned her head towards the stairs. "Shh," she whispered to Fred and George to silence them, "Mum's coming. She'll think you're up to something." Fred and George were still laughing and Ron's face had turned a vibrant shade of red.

"What are you two on about?" Mrs. Weasley asked as she appeared at the bottom of the stairs. She looked suspiciously from Fred to George and back again.

"Nothing, Mum," Fred and George answered simultaneously, immediately sobering up and attempting to sound casual.

"Hmmph." Mrs. Weasley glared at them both suspiciously before she noticed Harry. "Oh, good morning, Harry dear. I'm afraid you missed Hermione this morning."

"I heard," Harry said quietly, not wanting to start another fight with Ron. 

"Well, the post has just arrived and I've brought your Hogwarts letters," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Is there a letter for me, Mum?" Fred asked anxiously.

"Why would there be a letter for you?"

"Not a Hogwarts letter," Fred said impatiently. "Just a letter froma friend."

"Not from a girlfriend is it, Fred?" Ron teased maliciously, to which Fred responded by kicking him under the table.

Mrs. Weasley ignored him and continued, "No, Fred, no letters for you or George. But here's one for Harry and one for Ron," she said, passing out the letters. "And here's your letter, Ginny dear," she said kindly. She looked at her daughter affectionately as she handed her the last letter. Harry couldn't help but notice that Mrs. Weasley handled Ginny's letter with great care as though it were something precious and fragile.

Ginny accepted the letter slowly. She looked with concern at her mother, and then at the envelope in her hand. When Ginny turned away to open the letter, Mrs. Weasley looked over her daughter's shoulder expectantly.

"Mum, please," Ginny said sternly, rolling her eyes. 

Mrs. Weasley took the hint and walked away, frowning.

No one else seemed to have noticed this interaction. Fred and George were talking animatedly about business at the joke shop. And Ron had already ripped open his letter and was complaining about the number of books required for N.E.W.T. level classes. 

Harry tried to concentrate on opening his own letter, but he couldn't help but stare as Ginny slowly broke the seal on the back of her envelope and pulled out the sheets of parchment inside. She frowned as she read the letter. Setting the letter aside, Ginny picked up the open envelope and shook it upside down. 

"Something wrong?" Harry asked her.

Ginny looked startled by the question. "N-no, nothing's wrong. Everything's fineas expected really." Her expression said completely the opposite though and she looked rather disappointed.

"So," Mrs. Weasley asked somewhat anxiously when she returned to the table, "do we have something to celebrate, Ginny dear?" 

"How should I know?" Ginny said, sounding irritated. 

"You didn't receive" Mrs. Weasley trailed off, looking slightly puzzled.

"No," Ginny answered flatly. "You weren't really expecting it, were you, Mum?"

"Well, you're very bright, dear, and your grades have been very high. After Ron became one, I just thought-"

Ginny cut her mother off before she could finish what she was saying. "Well, you thought wrong. I'm not the brightest in my class, Mum. Rosemary Bennett is loads better than me at Transfiguration and Charms. And how could you expect Professor Dumbledore to make me a prefect after my first year?" Ginny was clearly trying to sound as though the possibility of becoming a prefect had never crossed her mind, but her voice betrayed her with a note of bitterness and disappointment.

"Aw," Fred said, pretending to wipe away an invisible tear, "George, our little sister is following in our footsteps." 

"Way to go, Ginny. We're so proud of you," said George, enthusiastically shaking her hand.

Mrs. Weasley gave them a cross look. 

"Come on, Mum," Fred said. "You can't expect us all to be perfect prefects like Percy and Ron here."

"Well, I never expected it from you two," Mrs. Weasley said sharply, glaring at them. "How could I, after receiving an owl about your behavior every other day?"

"Only every other day?" Fred asked, frowning. 

Mrs. Weasley sighed with exasperation. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot against the stone floor. "Don't you both have a shop to be attending to?" she said impatiently.

"Aw, Mum, are you trying to get rid of us already? It's only," Fred paused and looked at his watch, "ten past nine."

"Come on, Fred," George said as he stood up, "we know when we're not wanted. Besides, that shipment of Billywig stingers is supposed to be delivered this morning."

"See, Ginny," Fred said proudly, "we're living proof that you don't have to be a prefect to be successful. And don't worry about the O.W.L.s either, you can always come to work for us if you fail."

"Thanks a lot," Ginny replied sarcastically, but she grinned at the twins' retreating forms as they left.

"Those two," Mrs. Weasley said with frustration, shaking her head. She turned to Ginny, "I'd better see at least seven O.W.L.s from you, young lady. I don't care if your brothers are doing well with that silly joke shop of theirs, I don't want you following their example."

Ron laughed slightly and Mrs. Weasley turned on him, glaring. "And you, Ronald Weasley," she said sternly, "have nothing to laugh about. Only six O.W.L.s, and three A's among them! I would have expected better from a prefect. And may I ask, which N.E.W.T. level classes have you qualified for this year?" 

Ron gulped and looked down at his letter. "WellCare of Magical Creatures, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Herbology, and Divination."

"You passed Divination?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Yeah, I scraped an A. I guess the examiner couldn't exactly fail me on the crystal ball since what I saw was true, even if it was his reflection."

"Only five classes, Ron?" Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Well, you'll be lucky if I can persuade Minerva to accept you into her advanced Transfiguration class."

"Yeah, really lucky," Ron muttered sarcastically, his voice low enough so that only Harry could hear. 

"And what about you, Harry?" Mrs. Weasley asked, suddenly smiling and looking hopefully at him.

Harry was startled by the question and looked down at his envelope. Realizing that he still hadn't broken the seal, he glanced at Ginny, who was watching him intently. "Ihaven't looked at my letter yet," he answered, blushing. "Wait a minute." Harry opened the envelope quickly and removed the letter. He unfolded the parchment and scanned it quickly for the answer. 

"Well," he finally said, "it looks like I've qualified for Care of Magical Creatures, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, andPotions." Harry felt a bit reluctant to acknowledge to Ron that he had been accepted into Transfiguration and Potions when Ron hadn't.

"At least N.E.W.T. level classes are optional," Ron said to Harry. "I mean you don't have to take Potions. Merlin knows I couldn't stand another year with that" Ron stopped abruptly as he was thrown a stern look from Mrs. Weasley.

"Of course, Harry will take Potions. It's a very useful subject," Mrs. Weasley responded sternly to Ron. She looked warmly on Harry and smiled. "Congratulations, Harry dear, that's a very respectable list of classes. Now, if you all give me your lists, we can arrange to pick up your books in Diagon Alley next week."

Harry passed her the letter, still left unread for the most part. He felt some disappointment at the prospect of missing the annual visit to Diagon Alley for the second year in a row. He had hoped to have the chance to see Fred and George's shop before returning to Hogwarts, but that didn't seem likely now. There was virtually no possibility that he would be allowed to leave the house for such a trip, especially after what he had done at the Ministry. And besides, it appeared that his punishment of preparing the attic as an extra bedroom would take up the rest of the summer.

By the end of breakfast, Harry was feeling somewhat better as Ron seemed to have forgotten completely that he was ever angry with Harry. Everything seemed to be back to normal as they conversed happily about the coming year and their plans for the new Quidditch season. They discussed who else should try out for Chaser, with Ginny being a given, and the necessity of replacing Sloper and Kirke as Beaters. They contemplated who would be selected as the Gryffindor captain, with Harry insisting that it would be Katie while Ron was adamant that it would be Harry. 

On the whole, Harry was feeling pretty cheerful by the time he and Ginny started working on the attic again. But as Harry tried to continue the Quidditch discussion with her, she seemed reluctant to talk about it. As Harry thought about it, he realized that Ginny hadn't had much to say at all since her Hogwarts letter had arrived.

"Are you still upset about not being made a prefect?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Oh," she said, startled, "wellnot really." But she was still frowning.

"I would understand if you were," said Harry with sympathy. "To tell you the truth, I was a little upset about it last year. It really threw me for a loop that Ron was made prefect. I mean I was happy for him and all, butwell, you know." 

He thought about telling her how Dumbledore had confessed that he had denied Harry the position because he'd thought that he "_had enough responsibility to be going on with_," but decided against it. Nothing was going to change, so it was better for Ron to continue to believe that he had earned the position outright.

"I don't really care about the position so much," Ginny said. "At least I won't have the extra responsibilities, and I can spend more time on Quidditch training and studying for the O.W.L.s. Honestly, if Ron hadn't had Hermione around last year to handle the prefect duties, I think he would have had a breakdown from all of the stress." 

She looked away and sighed. Despite all of her reasoning, it was quite clear that something was still upsetting her. "But," she continued slowly, sounding forlorn, "I was hoping for a new broom. I've never had my own broom and I thought if I became a prefect that Mum and Dad would finally buy me one. But...well...I guess I'll just have to make due with one of the school's old Shooting Stars."

"They didn't seem to give you a problem last year. You flew really well," Harry said encouragingly. "I'm sure it will all work out. You have a guaranteed spot on the team as far as I'm concerned."

"Eh, I wasn't that great last year," she said dismissively. "If I had only caught that snitch ten minutes sooner against Hufflepuff..." her voice trailed off. "I just know I could perform so much better with a good broom." She sighed. "Well, there's no use getting upset over something that wasn't meant to be, right?"

"Erright," Harry replied slowly, not quite sure how to respond. 

Quick to change the subject, he opened a new box and asked Ginny for her help in sorting through the contents within. It turned out that the box was full of old copies of a magazine called _Wizarding Pride_, reputed to be the "_one source of information to the wizarding community produced, written, and edited entirely by pure-bloods_."

After spotting her grandfather, William Weasley, in a group photo on one of the covers, Ginny spent the rest of the morning combing through the magazines. Harry, meanwhile, continued to work through the rest of the attic. But Ginny's time was not spent in vain, as it soon became apparent that the magazines were loaded with information on the families of most of the Death Eaters and, perhaps even more importantly, the ties between them. If only Sirius had discovered those magazines during the previous year, Harry thought wistfully. His godfather might have found some satisfaction in being able to produce information that could yet prove valuable to the Order's ongoing efforts..

Over the next few days, working in the attic turned out to be a godsend for Harry, despite the sore muscles and the clouds of dust he inhaled. It occupied his mind and made him feel useful, blocking out the depression that had threatened to destroy him since Sirius's death. And every night, he would fall asleep so exhausted that it left his mind blank and often free of the nightmares that seemed to haunt him perpetually. 

So the days passed quickly and before Harry knew it, a week had gone by. Remus had returned from his transformation, looking quite a bit worse than when he had left. His face was gaunt and pale and Harry had the distinct impression that the transformation hadn't gone quite so well this time. Not helping the matter was Remus's reaction when he first saw and heard the portrait of Sirius. Needless to say, it came as quite a shock when Remus heard Sirius asking Harry, "Who's the old man?" moments after Remus had walked through the door upon his return.

In fact, the portrait seemed to unnerve Remus completely. He looked like he would be sick every tme that he passed it. For this reason, if no other, Harry found himself somewhat relieved when Dumbledore came to take away the portrait. Surprisingly, Harry was not all that sad to see it go. He knew he would be able to see the portrait again when he returned to Hogwarts in less than two weeks. And, although he loathed to admit it, he found that Hermione had been right to some extent - the portrait's inhabitant bore little in common with his godfather other than a shallow physical resemblence.

After a few days, Harry had found his anger towards Hermione starting to ebb away. By the end of the week, he was starting to miss her presence at Grimmauld Place. But a letter they had received from Hermione indicated that she was glad to be spending some time with her family before leaving them for another year. It was with some discomfort that Harry read about Hermione's anticipation of meeting them in Diagon Alley when they went to collect their books and supplies for the coming year.

The problem was that Harry wouldn't be able to meet her. And Ron's enthusiasm for the trip was growing increasingly annoying. Fortunately, he was still spending most of his time working in the attic with Ginny.

It was truly amazing what they had accomplished in a week's time. What had once been a filthy, musty storage room, unfit for human habitation, was now a relatively clean, spacious room. And it was much brighter now that they had removed the coverings over the large round stained-glass window and Mr. Weasley had replaced the old candles with some of his magically enhanced lightbulbs. 

Looking around at the new room that they had created, Harry felt proud of their accomplishment. Just a few more things remained to be done and then it would be complete. The room felt so inviting now that Harry actually found himself envying its future occupant.

"I think we might be able to finish it tomorrow," Harry commented to Ginny as he mentally took a tally of the tasks that were left.

"Tomorrow?" Ginny asked, perplexed.

"Yeah, I think we'll be able to get more done while everyone's away."

"Harry," Ginny looked confused, "I'm not going to be here tomorrow. I'm going to Diagon Alley with Mum. I've already arranged to meet Dean at the Leaky Cauldron tomorrow afternoon."

"OhI see," Harry said slowly, failing to conceal his disappointment. He had not expected this. For some reason, he had just assumed that Ginny would be staying behind also, completing the work on the attic with him.

"Well, it's not like you'd really want to be here with me anyway," Ginny said, laughing slightly. "I mean I know you would have preferred to have Ron for company this week. You know, I'm sure he would stay here if you asked him."

"Mmm," Harry replied vaguely. 

He knew that Ron would most likely stay if he asked him, but Harry couldn't request that knowing how much Ron had been anticipating the trip to Diagon Alley. And the truth was that he really had been enjoying Ginny's company. He had never felt the necessity with her to provide answers the way he did when he was with Ron. Although Ron was his best friend in the world, lately Harry had felt the pressure of unasked questions between them. Ron clearly wanted to know what had happened at the Ministry and Harry still wasn't ready to talk about it. Nor was he ready to relate any of the other secrets that were still weighing on his heart; the things that he saw in his nightmares, his mother's diary, the vision he had had of his parents in the Pensieve, and worst of all - his destiny and the contents of the prophecy. When he was with Ginny, for some reason, he did not feel this deep tension. He could relax with her and he laughed far more than he would have thought possible. 

Harry suddenly felt a distinct feeling of dislike towards Dean. He was surprised because he had always liked Dean very much and considered him a true friend. Harry shook his head as if to clear his mind. He was just being silly. Ginny could go out with whoever she liked. It had never bothered him before. 

And yetit did bother him now. But why should it matter? There was absolutely no reason for him to be upset with Dean or with Ginny. He didn't have any right to expect her to stay. Why would she want to stay with him instead of going out with Dean? If he had the choice, he certainly wouldn't choose to stay here. Maybe, Harry thought with distaste, maybe spending all this time with Ginny was turning him into an overprotective older brotherlike Ron. Yes, that must be it, he rationalized. 

"Hey, Harry," Ginny said, startling Harry abruptly from his thoughts, "why don't you just ask if you can come with us? Maybe they'll let you."

"I doubt it," Harry said gloomily. "Not after what happened last week."

"Well, it couldn't hurt to ask, right? You'll never know unless you try."   


* * * * *

Ginny's words proved to be true as slightly less than twenty-four hours later, Harry found himself in Flourish and Blott's with Ron and Hermione. True, Moody was Disillusioning him before he left every shop and there were about four undercover Order members within ten feet at any one time, but, nonetheless, he was in Diagon Alley as desired.

Hermione was piling books into Ron's arms. Their book lists for the coming year truly were extraordinary, at least five books per subject for the advanced level courses. The only advantage was that most of the books would be used again the following year. Harry was pleased to see that two of the books for Defense Against the Dark Arts were among those that Sirius and Remus had given to him last Christmas. They all took this as a good sign that the new Defense teacher might at least have some reasonable knowledge of the subject.

"C'mon, Hermione, hurry up," Ron said impatiently as Hermione looked at yet another stack of books for her Arithmancy and Ancient Runes classes. "We've been in here for an hour already. I want to make it to Quality Quidditch Supplies before they close."

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Fine, but I don't know why you want to go there anyway. You already have a new broom. Well, I'm almost through here. I just have to find," she paused as she scanned a long scroll of parchment, "_The Modern Scientific Approach to Ancient Runes_ by Lenora Lapis."

Ron roughly dropped the piles of books in his arms into a basket. Then he snatched the parchment out of her hand and scanned it. "Blimey, do they really expect you to buy all of these books?"

"Well, no," Hermione answered, "these are just extra books that I thought might be useful. I made a list last June before we left Hogwarts and Madam Pince made a few recommendations."

"A few? Hermione you're buying over a dozen extra books!"

"We're in N.E.W.T. level classes now, Ron, if you hadn't noticed. Things are going to be much more serious now. We're all going to have to put in a lot more effort."

Ron groaned. As Hermione collected her final book and entered the queue to make her purchases, Ron whispered to Harry, "You can always count on Hermione to create extra work for herself."

"And for us," Harry noted as he nodded his head towards the extra defensive theory books she had persuaded, or rather ordered, them to buy.

After Harry and Ron had paid for their books, they proceeded enthusiastically to Quality Quidditch Supplies with Hermione following behind somewhat reluctantly. Upon approaching the store, they saw the usual assortment of first and second year students standing outside and drooling over the latest broomsticks in the window display. This year, it appeared that there were several new brooms. Harry and Ron walked inside to get a closer look. 

As it turned out, there were four new brooms, each part of the new Nimbus Professional line. Each broom was specifically designed for a different Quidditch position. There was one designed for Chasers, one for Beaters, one for Keepers, and one for Seekers. Each broom had specialized features for its rider, such as superior pivoting ability and handless directional control for Chasers, a stability control system for Beaters, and improved speed and maneuvering capability for Keepers. The Seeker's broom was advertised to have a top speed that went slightly faster than the Firebolt, but Harry was still unsure whether the handling would be comparable. They were not cheap by any means of the imagination, but the pricing was somewhat reasonable if you compared them with the cost of the Firebolt. 

Although he certainly was intrigued by the new broomsticks, Harry decided that he would still rather use his Firebolt, as it had never performed anything but perfectly for him. And although Ron probably would have liked a fancier broomstick, he was still proud of the new broom he had received from his parents for becoming a prefect. So, Hermione was able to drag them out of the store without too much argument. When they were halfway to the stationery shop next door, Harry thought of something and stopped in his place.

"You two go ahead," he said, "I'll meet up with you at Fred and George's store. I just remembered something that I wanted to buy."

Ten minutes later, Harry walked out of Quality Quidditch Supplies feeling somewhat nervous and yet pleased with what he had done. Buying the broom had been impulsive and maybe a bit rash but it felt good to him. And with his inheritance from Sirius, it wasn't as if he couldn't afford it. In fact, he was certain that the cost of the Nimbus Chaser would hardly even make a dent in the mounds of gold in Sirius's vault. Besides, he had decided to only use the money selflessly, and this was certainly a selfless act, wasn't it? 

The more he thought about it, the more he was pleased with the gift. It was the right thing to do and it was what she really wanted. She deserved it. He only had to make sure that no one ever found out that the broom was from him. He imagined how Ron would react to a gift of that magnitude. He would probably see it as charity and so would the rest of the Weasleys. But it wasn't really charity, Harry reasoned, it was for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. It would help them win this year. Besides he had given Fred and George his Tri-Wizard winnings, it was only fair to do at least this for Ginny, right?

Still, his stomach lurched at the thought of anyone finding out that he had bought the broom for Ginny. But he had taken precautions. Moody and Remus had waited outside while he made his purchase, and Tonks had been too wrapped up in finding a broom for herself to notice exactly what he had been doing at the time. He had purchased some orange Chudley Cannons socks for Dobby also, just so he had some excuse for returning to the store. And he'd ordered the broom to be sent anonymously to Hogwarts directly on the morning of September 2nd. Only the shopkeeper knew who had really bought the broom and he had made her swear not to tell anyone. If all went as planned, Ginny would have her broom in a week's time and no one would be any the wiser.

Harry felt very satisfied as he followed Remus through the crowded winding street towards Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. He couldn't help grinning at the thought of what Ginny's reaction might be when the post owls arrived with her broom.

They turned a corner and as Harry looked ahead, he was pleasantly surprised to see Hermione talking to Oliver Wood, not far from Fred and George's shop. Ron was nowhere in sight, so Harry assumed that he was in the store. Hermione must have just run into Oliver. Certainly Ron would have wanted to see him too. 

Harry quickened his pace and was about to call out a greeting when he noticed that Hermione's face had changed, she was no longer smiling. He watched as the color drained from her face and she stopped speaking altogether. Her eyes widened, she looked fearful for some reason. Harry was staring so intently at her face that it took him several moments before he took in the whole scene. His heart leapt into his throat as he realized that Oliver, looking very grim now, had pulled out his wand and had it pointed at Hermione's heart. With his wand still aimed discreetly, Oliver pushed her ahead of him a few feet and turned into an alley, vanishing from sight.

Without thought or reason, Harry whipped out his wand and ran as fast as he could towards the alleyway. Forgetting completely about his Disillusioned state, he pushed his way through the crowds, knocking over half a dozen witches and wizards, who looked around in confusion. Every second felt like an eternity as he sprinted the few dozen yards between them. With wand drawn and his heart pumping, he was just about to turn the corner when something pulled him back. A hand clamped over his mouth and another arm wrapped around his chest, binding his arms and pulling him backward until they were standing flat against the wall, mere inches away from the alley.

He struggled against his captor in vain and listened helplessly to the distant sounds coming from the alley. Someone was speaking in low, even tones that sent a chill to his heart. The voice was strange and cold, but there was no doubt that it was Wood.

"Where is he?" Wood demanded.

There was no answer from Hermione.

"We know who you are and your connection to him. And we know where your parents live, Mudblood. Unless you want something unfortunate to happen to them, I suggest you tell me Potter's whereabouts and the name of his Secret Keep-."

"_STUPEFY_!" screamed two voices at once. 

Harry looked up in time to see Moody and Tonks running into the alley with wands drawn as he was pulled backwards. His captor let go of his mouth to open a door behind them and Harry screamed. The busy crowd in the street, which had seemed to ignore the scene completely when his friend's life was in danger, suddenly turned as one and stared at Harry for a fraction of a second. Almost instantaneously, Harry was thrust bodily into the room behind him and the door to the street was slammed shut. He skidded a few feet across the smooth wooden surface and knocked over a display of fireworks.

"_Colloportus!_"

Harry looked around to the source of the voice and saw Remus looking cautiously out of the window. Remus turned and stared down at Harry, who was still lying in the position where he had fallen. Remus had been his captor, Harry realized with dawning comprehension. And the man outside threatening Hermione, that couldn't have been Wood. Oliver Wood would never call anyone a Mudblood. This didn't make any sense. It had to be a Death Eater in disguise, unless...unless Wood was under the Imperius curse.

"Harry, be quiet and stay low," Remus whispered. "Go to the back room, all of you." 

Harry stood up slowly and turned around. Fred, George, Ron, and Mrs. Weasley were all staring at Lupin in shock behind a glass counter filled with Canary Creams, Ton Tongue Toffees, Truth Truffles, and Skiving Snackboxes. 

"What's going on?" Mrs. Weasley asked, her voice wavering with fear.

Harry answered breathlessly as he pointed towards the alleyway, "Her-Hermione-"

Ron rushed to his side. "What's happened to Hermione?" he insisted, his eyes widening with alarm.

"Hermione will be fine," Remus stressed. "Moody and Tonks are handling the situation. You have to get out of here. Go, now! Molly, take them to headquarters."

"But what about Ginny? She's still at the Leaky Cauldron," Mrs. Weasley said in a panicked voice.

"I'll get Ginny. Trust me, I'll bring her back, but you have to leave now. What are you waiting for? GO!" 

"All right, we're going. Come on, boys," Mrs. Weasley said tearfully. 

"No! Hermione-," Ron objected, struggling against his mother's hold on his wrist.

"_Portus_," Mrs. Weasley said as she aimed her wand at an item Harry recognized as the Headless Hat that the twins had developed the year before. The hat glowed blue for a moment. "Fred, George, take Harry." Harry felt Fred and George hook their arms firmly around his as he looked helplessly between Remus and the area outside where he knew Hermione must be. "I've got Ron," Mrs. Weasley continued. "Now, be ready on the count of three. One"

Harry felt the jerk behind his navel as his focus blurred. The smooth wooden floor suddenly disappeared beneath his feet. The room swirled around him and all he could see was a whirlwind of violently brilliant colors. Then the colors vanished completely, to be replaced by cold, empty blackness, before Harry felt solid ground beneath him once again.  


* * *

_Author's Note:  
Just to make it perfectly clear, Oliver Wood is NOT a Death Eater. He's still the obsessed Quidditch player and true Gryffindor we all know and love. If you read carefully, you can guess what's really going on. _


	13. Ch 13: A Darker World

**Harry Potter and the Forbidden Passage**  
  
by Cendrillon 

_Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to the creative mind of J.K. Rowling and I am not receiving any monetary compensation for this story. I am merely borrowing the characters for my own and your amusement during what will no doubt be a long wait for Book 6.   
  
Author's Note: Please don' t pelt me with rocks, or sticks, or, well, anything else. I'm very sorry for the long wait for this chapter. If it helps, most of my favorite stories haven't been updated in at least this long. There is a good excuse for why it took so long. I had to plan out most of the next year in order to continue the story into sixth year, but that also means that large chunks have already been written including a brand new sorting hat song for the next chapter - no small feat I might add. And the creation of new characters with entire past histories. Plus this chapter is really two in one, I just had a very ambitious plan for everything I wanted to include in it. So, without further ado, here's the long, long, long awaited chapter 13: _

* * *

**Chapter 13: A Darker World **

  
The kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place swirled into harsh reality around them. Harry felt instantly nauseous, but this time it wasn't from the Portkey. Hermione was in danger and he was helpless to do anything about it. And she had become a target because of him, because of their friendship. He had to do something, he couldn't just wait here for who knows how long before some word arrived.

Everything that he had just seen and heard replayed itself over and over in his mind. The Death Eater possessing or masquerading as Oliver, for that was surely what had happened, had said that "something unfortunate" might happen to Hermione's parents. Would Remus, Tonks, or Moody warn the Grangers? Had any of them even heard the entire conversation? And if they had, would they have time to warn them between saving Hermione, possibly apprehending a Death Eater, and finding Ginny? Hermione's parents could be in danger right now, there was no time to waste, someone had to do something.

Harry was about to ask Mrs. Weasley to contact Dumbledore. Then, with a jolt of realization, he remembered that there was something he could do. All along he had possessed the power to contact any member of the Order.

Pulling the chain out from the neck of his shirt, he held out the phoenix pendant.. 

"I am loyal to the Order of the Phoenix," Harry said quickly. Tiny flames arose from the pendant as it sat flat in his palm. "Dumbledore," he spoke clearly into the flames.

"Harry?" Dumbledore's voice rose softly from the pendant. "I am aware of what has happened. Kingsley and Hestia have already Apparated to Diagon Alley. You're safe at Grimmauld Place, aren't you?"

"Yes," Harry responded, "but Hermione's parents could be in trouble. I heard Woodor the Death Eaterwhoever it was. Anyway, he threatened her parents and said that they know where they live. Someone needs to warn them."

There was a brief silence before Dumbledore spoke again. "I'll take care of it myself immediately. You made the right decision to contact me. Thank you, Harry."

The flames flickered away and Harry knew that Dumbledore had gone. 

Placing the medallion back beneath his collar he looked up to see Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, and Ron staring at him, horrified.

Ron was the first to speak. "Harry, what's going on? You have to tell me. Is Hermione hurt?" He sounded close to hysterics and looked more afraid than Harry had ever seen him, even more afraid than he was when they had met Aragog in the Forbidden Forest. 

"I don't knowI mean, I thinkI think she's okay," Harry stammered. "I just don't know. It all happened so fast."

"WHAT happened?" Ron demanded impatiently.

"I saw them talking," Harry replied slowly, still trying make sense of what he had seen. "Hermione was talking to Wood and then-"

"Wood?" Fred and George asked at once. "Not Oliver Wood?" Fred continued.

Harry glanced at Fred, nodded, and continued, "Suddenly, he aimed his wand at Hermione and led her into the alley next to the store. II ran after them butRemus pulled me back before I was able to reach them. I didn't see what happened, but I heard it. He threatened Hermione, he said that they would do something to her parents if she didn't tell him," he trailed off.

"Who are they?" 

"Tell him what?" 

"Why would Wood threaten Hermione?" 

The questions came from everyone at once.

"It wasn't WoodI mean it was, butI dunno, I think it might have been Polyjuice or the Imperius curse," Harry explained. "He didn't sound himself. Whoever was threatening her, it looked like Wood, but I think it was a Death Eater."

"Why? What did he want?" Ron asked anxiously.

Harry closed his eyes and sat down on the bench, his head in his hands. He felt sick. Hermione had been put in danger because of him. He looked up at Ron, whose eyes were full of concern. Ron, his best friend. It could just as easily have been him. And it could yet be him. He deserved to know.

"He was asking her where-"

A loud pop interrupted Harry in mid-sentence as Tonks suddenly Apparated five feet in front of him, knocking over a bucket in the process.

"Everyoneall righthere?" she asked breathlessly.

"Where's Hermione?" Ron demanded, ignoring her question. 

"They're comingshould be hereany second now," she panted.

Seconds passed and became minutes which seemed terribly like hours before they heard sounds coming from upstairs. There was a jam at the staircase as everyone raced up at once. Ron was fastest, shortly followed by Harry. Bounding up the stairws, they burst out of the doorway and flooded into the entry hall. But it was not Hermione who had arrived, Dumbledore was standing at the entrance with Hermione's parents. The Grangers looked nervous and frightened and a bit out of place in a wizarding household. Mrs. Granger appeared to be clenching Mr. Granger's hand so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

There was a lengthy pause as the two sides stared at each other in silence. Dumbledore looked pointedly at Tonks as though he was asking her an unspoken question and she shook her head just a fraction in response. 

"Molly," Dumbledore said softly as he directed his gaze to Mrs. Weasley, "Would you mind showing Mr. and Mrs. Granger to the kitchen? I think they could use a spot of tea right about now." 

Mrs. Weasley shook herself out of a daze and replied quickly, "Yes, of course, of course." She gave a halfhearted smile, "What was I thinking? You both must be worried sick." Mrs. Weasley immediately walked over and gently ushered the Grangers toward the stairs. "I'm sure Hermione will be arriving any moment now," she said comfortingly, but her voice wavered slightly.

Fred and George followed silently and Harry and Ron were about to do the same when Dumbledore spoke.

"Harry, stay please. I need to hear your account of what took place. Mr. Weasley, you may join your family."

Ron turned to leave and then he spun back on his heel and faced Dumbledore. "No," Ron said firmly, "I want to hear this. I want to know exactly what happened to Hermione."

Dumbledore looked at Harry and raised his eyebrows in a silent question. 

Harry nodded in response. "It's all right, he should know," Harry said solemnly.

Harry proceeded to explain in detail everything he had seen and heard outside Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. When he was finished, Ron said nothing and his face was unreadable, he looked neither angry nor sad nor scared. He bit his lower lip and turned his head down and away. Harry had the distinct feeling that Ron would show any one of those emotions if he turned to face them.

Dumbledore sighed. "I had expected that something like this might happen one day," he said. "Unfortunately, it happened far sooner than I would have hoped. Voldemort's feared. His moves are growing bolder if he's attempted anything in Diagon Alley."

An ominous thought crossed Harry's mind and he had to ask, "Do you think Wood is all right, Professor? I mean, if they were using Polyjuice potion, he could be imprisoned like Professor Moody was."

"The Polyjuice potion requires a month to prepare and I very much doubt that this attack was planned that far in advance. After all, even with the closest network of spies, they would have no way of knowing a month before when or even if Hermione would visit Diagon Alley. And from what you described, it sounded as though Oliver were under the Imperius curse or perhaps," Dumbledore paused as though a new thought had just occurred to him. He frowned and continued, whispering as if he was speaking to himself, "No, that's impossible, only Voldemort himself could do that and he would have to be close by." He shook his head and turned back to Harry. "Let's just say that I would be much mistaken if the man you saw was not in fact the real Oliver Wood."

Normally, Harry might have asked about the other possibility that Dumbledore had been thinking of, but this time he had the feeling that he knew exactly what Dumbledore was thinking, for the thought had crossed his mind as well. After all, he had experienced it quite recently - a strange voice coming out of his own body, the feeling of someone else controlling his movements, and the intense pain that had made him in that moment wish for death to come swiftly. That was what it felt like to be possessed by Voldemort, a feeling that he would never wish on another human being. 

Harry looked up and found Dumbledore surveying him with concern and he knew that Dumbledore had discerned what he had been thinking. 

"Well," Dumbledore said, "perhaps it would be prudent of me to see what is keeping them. Mr. Wood may very well be in more danger from Alastor Moody than any Death Eaters. Harry, anyone who comes to the house should stay here. Don't let them leave. I'll be back shortly and I need to hear from everyone who was at the scene. We have to know what exactly took place to prevent further attacks of this nature."

Harry showed his agreement with a single nod and Dumbledore was gone as swiftly as he had appeared. 

"He knew," Ron said quietly. "He knew that something like this might happen but he did nothing." He seemed both angry and shocked.

_Welcome to my world_, Harry thought. Why did it always seem that Dumbledore knew everything and yet never did anything about it? Had Dumbledore acted on his knowledge, would Sirius be alive now? Would Hermione never have been attacked? While the thought of Sirius still tormented him beyond endurance, he was not so certain that the attack on Hermione could have been prevented.

"I wouldn't have known at first and I'm not so sure that Dumbledore would have either. I really thought it was Wood," Harry explained, "and maybe it was at first. Any of us would have stopped to talk to him. No one could have anticipated that."

"Dumbledore did," Ron said plainly. "You heard him. Does he think we're idiots? We've known for years that being your friend might have its consequences, but that's a risk that we were both willing to take. But if Dumbledore expected something like this, then he could have prepared us better." 

Harry was silent. He couldn't argue with this. Maybe Dumbledore should have prepared them better, all of them. He knew the prophecy, he knew Voldemort's methods, and he obviously knew what to expect, so why did he always remain so distant? If he was such a great and powerful wizard, why was he not teaching them the skills it would take to protect themselves?

Harry's thoughts were broken by a sound that came up from the kitchen and was followed by many voices. He and Ron exchanged a glance and said, "Hermione," together at once. Just as they were both about to join the rest downstairs, the front door creaked open and both of them turned towards the sound. What they saw stopped them in their tracks as Hermione stepped through the door, closely followed by Kingsley Shacklebolt. 

Before a single word could be said, Ron had run to Hermione and wrapped her in what looked to be a very tight embrace. This lasted several seconds, during which Hermione looked both shocked and extremely uncomfortable.

"Erbreathe," Hermione finally gasped.   
  
"Oh, right. Sorry," Ron said quickly, blushing to the tips of his ears as he let go instantly and stepped back.

"Are you all right, Hermione?" Harry asked as he hugged her briefly.

"I'm fine."

Harry and Ron both cast her a questioning glance.

"Really, I am. I'm just a little shaken up, that's all. Honestly, you're both acting as though I can't take care of myself," Hermione said. "There was never any danger really." The note of confidence in her voice began to falter. She bit her lower lip and looked down.

"Right," Ron said sarcastically, "no danger at all in a Death Eater nearly kidnapping you."

"Well I didn't know he was a Death Eater at the time," she snapped unexpectedly, suddenly looking rather angry.

"I didn't say that you did," Ron replied, confusion written on his face.

"But you think that I should have, don't you?" she demanded. 

Ron shook his head, but tears were already spilling down her cheeks.

"I should have recognized that it wasn't really Oliver," she cried miserably. "I should have known the signs." She wiped at her eyes. "I must look like an idiot, being fooled so easily."

"Hermione, you know we don't think that," Harry said gently. "I saw him, Hermione. I saw the two of you talking. I thought it was Oliver at first too."

"Really? You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes and sniffing slightly.

"Really," Harry confirmed.

Hermione embraced him briefly just as everyone else in the house started to appear, drawn by her outburst. Suddenly Hermione was surrounded by people taking turns hugging her and expressing relief at her safe return. Her eyes widened when she saw her parents and she looked overjoyed.

As Harry stepped away from the crowd around Hermione, he felt a hand on his arm. He turned and looked into Ginny's brown eyes. With everything that had happened, he had forgotten that she had also been left behind in Diagon Alley and felt some relief at the realization that she and Remus, who was standing not far away, had also returned safely.

"Harry, maybe we should let Hermione be alone with her parents for a little while, don't you think?" Ginny asked. She looked towards Hermione whose mother held a protective arm around her still.

Harry agreed and Ginny took the job of luring away the twins and Mrs. Weasley while Harry was given the somewhat more difficult task of convincing a rather reluctant Ron to leave Hermione for any length of time. 

When Dumbledore returned an hour later, he met with Hermione alone to hear her side of the story. Harry was anxious to find out what had happened afterwards with Oliver Wood, but he supposed that that would have to wait. 

As it turned out, he didn't have to wait long. Dumbledore called him into the study to join them only a few minutes later.

"Hermione has just explained to me her half of the events," Dumbledore explained to Harry, "and I felt it only fair to tell you both about the aftermath. Oliver Wood is currently being detained by the Ministry. I had hoped that they would not get involved, but, alas, by the time I had arrived in Diagon Alley, several Aurors were already at the scene. 

"Before I left, Mr. Wood was tested for the Polyjuice potion and his appearance remained unaltered, nor did he bear any sign of the Dark Mark. Then he was administered Veritaserum, but he remembers nothing of what happened. Fortunately, for Mr. Wood's sake, no one actually believes now that he had any control over his actions, but the Ministry has decided to keep a firm watch over him for the time being. The Ministry is maintaining the position that Mr. Wood was under the Imperius curse the entire time and that his memory was modified after he was stunned. Naturally, the Ministry will not even consider the other possibility, one which I believe you have already suspected, Harry," Dumbledore gazed meaningfully at him and Harry nodded.

Harry turned and looked at Hermione. Surprisingly, she did not look confused but she paled as though she understood the exact meaning of Dumbledore's words. Of course, the Ministry would never want to admit that Wood could have been possessed because that would mean that Voldemort himself had penetrated the Ministry's supposedly impenetrable defenses around Diagon Alley. 

Dumbledore continued, "We may never know what truly happened in this case, but that doesn't really matter. The point is that Mr. Wood was not involved and that anyone anywhere is vulnerable during these times, though some are certainly more vulnerable targets than others.."

"But isn't there anything I could have done, Professor?" Hermione asked desperately. "Books I could have read or spells I could have learned?"  
  
Dumbledore peered over his half-moon spectacles at Hermione. "I don't believe that there was anything that you could have done to prevent this attack, Miss Granger. And books can only teach you so much, the most valuable knowledge comes from experience. But rest assured that I will do my best to find a solution to prevent any further incidents of this nature. And I will perform the Fidelius charm for your parents, so have no fears on their account."  
  
When the meeting ended, Harry could tell that Hermione was still unnerved and frustrated. 

"Harry?" she asked as soon as they were alone, "are you planning on continuing the D.A. this year?"

"I'm not sure. Why?"

"Well, you're going to whether you want to or not and the first thing we're going to learn is how to block the Imperius curse," Hermione said forcefully with a determined look in her eye. "And not just in theory this time, but in practice."

He wasn't sure how he felt about being ordered to continue teaching the D.A. or about using an Unforgivable Curse even with the best intentions. But on the other hand, Hermione seemed like her old self again. He was so happy to see her confidence returned that he quickly agreed.

* * * * * 

'The next few days were a whirlwind of activity. The Order seemed to be especially active as Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny prepared for their return to Hogwarts. The household was noisy and crowded with more people staying there than usual. Mrs. Weasley refused to let Fred and George return to their premises in Diagon Alley for several days until she felt confident in the Ministry's stepped up security efforts. Meanwhile, the attic that Harry and Ginny had converted into an additional bedroom, completed with a few well-placed charms by Mr. Weasley, became a temporary residence for the Grangers. 

It was evident that Hermione enjoyed having her parents around. She delighted in showing them some of the wonders of the wizarding world that she'd never been able to share with them before. Harry noticed that Mrs. Granger seemed quietly envious of the cooking and cleaning spells that Mrs. Weasley performed with ease. Meanwhile, Mr. Weasley was absolutely thrilled at the chance to live with Muggles and asked them incessantly about various Muggle inventions, especially anything involving "ekeltricity." And he was particularly fascinated by their professions, but became somewhat less enthused when Mr. Granger kindly explained some of the tools they used for fillings and extractions. Mrs. Granger actually bought them both a few hours of peace when she told Mr. Weasley about root canals and he remained silent for the rest of the day.

The closer it came to September the 1st, the more frantic Grimmauld Place became. Suddenly it seemed to have occurred to everyone that a simple thing like their ride to Hogwarts was fraught with danger. The Hogwarts Express could be a huge target for Voldemort since everyone in the wizarding world knew when and where it left. Not to mention the fact that children of Death Eaters would be on the train. And there was no security on the train the way there was with Hogwarts itself, as witnessed by the dementors invasion of the train only three years ago. 

It seemed that everyone had ideas about what they should do. Naturally, they all knew that Harry would be the target of any attack, so it was suggested that he should travel by Portkey to Hogwarts, much to his dislike as he always enjoyed the train trip. But after Hermione's incident, Mrs. Weasley quite rightly pointed out that the trip could be dangerous for more than just him. Although they hated to admit it, an attack on the train could also prove to be a very powerful symbol of Voldemort's return to his reign of terror. As one solution, Remus had insisted that he would accompany them on the train and other members of the Order had volunteered as well. But it was Dumbledore's plan that was finally decided upon. 

A diversion would be created at the Ministry where they would make it appear that Harry would be leaving from there long before the Hogwarts Express was scheduled to leave. Meanwhile, only the students would be allowed onto the platform this year and Moody would stand by the entrance to be sure that no one else, disguised or not, went through. With Moody's keen senses, they determined that he might be able to spot anyone who might be under the influence of Polyjuice Potion or the Imperius Curse. The greatest anti-Apparition wards would surround the train, strong enough even to block Portkeys. And a similar invisibility spell to the one that Mr. Weasley had used on his flying car would block the Hogwarts Express from sight over land. But Harry didn't feel that any of these extra precautions were necessary as they would have the greatest security available against Voldemort - Dumbledore would be on the train.

The morning of September 1st was chaos as usual, with everyone gathering their things and packing last minute items. Harry, who was usually the first to be packed, was the last this time, as he suddenly found he had many more items to take than usual. 

He was finding it somewhat difficult to fit everything in his trunk with all of his birthday presents, especially the oversized Foe-Glass that Remus had purchased for him at Cloak & Dagger. He pried the Firebolt gently from the firm grasp of the bronze hands in the wall and carefully placed it on the top of the rather large pile of items in his trunk before closing and locking the lid in place. 

As he gave the room one last cursory glance and saw nothing he had forgotten, he heard Mrs. Weasley's voice calling up the stairs.

"Harry, are you ready yet, dear? We're running a bit late."

"Coming," Harry called back as he dragged his trunk out into the corridor. Tonks levitated it down the stairs and Harry followed holding Hedwig in her cage. 

Just as half of the Weasleys were out the door, Harry remembered something. He bolted back up the stairs and threw open the door to his room. Diving across the bed, he pulled open a drawer in the desk beyond.

"Harry! What are you doing?" Hermione yelled up, sounding rather annoyed.

He didn't respond. He reached in the drawer and pulled out the small book laying inside. Stuffing his mother's diary into a pocket, he hurried back downstairs where Hermione was waiting at the foot of the stairs with her arms crossed and one foot tapping the floor impatiently. 

"Everyone else is in the car already," she complained. 

"Sorry, I forgot something," he mumbled as he followed her out the front door. "So, how are we getting to King's Cross this year?"

"We're not going to King's Cross," Hermione explained as they walked out to the waiting car, which Remus was loading now with his trunk. 

"What?" Harry asked, stunned.

"Last minute change in plans. Professor Dumbledore thought it would be safer if we didn't appear at King's Cross. We're going to Victoria Station."

"But Victoria Station is south," he said in confusion.

"That doesn't matter," Hermione explained, sounding as though she thought he should have known better. "Dumbledore has arranged for a magical barrier like the one at King's Cross that will lead to Platform 9 ¾."

They slid into the magically enlarged car and joined Ginny and Ron in a wide row across the backseat. Hermione's parents both somehow managed to squeeze into the front with Mr. Weasley, who was driving. He had obviously been able to procure one of the Ministry cars again.

Since Victoria Station was closer than King's Cross, they somehow managed to arrive with a few minutes to spare. Remus, Tonks, and Mrs. Weasley met them at the station and helped them load the trunks onto carts. All of the wizards looked overwhelmed as they entered the enormous station and looked up at the tall glass roof. 

Harry glanced at the giant clock on the wall and noticed that it was only 2 minutes before the train would leave. "It's getting late, where do we go from here?" Harry asked Remus impatiently.

"It's all right, Dumbledore asked us to arrive five minutes late, so that all the children will have boarded the train already. He said that we're all to get on the lift near Platform 9," Remus replied as he turned around in a circle and stared down distant corridors. "But I'm not very familiar with this station, I don't know where"

Harry turned and looked at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley who looked just as confused. Mr. and Mrs. Granger, however, did not. 

"Platform nine?" Mrs. Granger asked. "We know where that is. Harold and I come through Victoria every time we need to catch a flight at Gatwick."

Within a few minutes they had arrived at the lift in question and waited for a group of Muggles to go ahead of them. Mr and Mrs. Granger and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley hugged everyone and said their goodbyes quickly as an empty lift opened to them. 

Once inside with the doors closed, Remus pulled out a small piece of parchment from his pocket. Scanning it, he pulled out his wand and aimed at the buttons next to the doors. "_Aparecium aditu platform nine and three quarters_!"

At first it appeared that nothing had happened and then only seconds later, another round button appeared below the others. It looked identical to the other buttons, except that it was etched with the number 9 ¾. 

Remus pressed the new button and the lift gave a slight shake that caused them all to grip the handrail. But the lift did not seem to move up or down or in any particular direction whatsoever. Seconds later, the doors opened and Harry looked out and saw the scarlet engine of the Hogwarts Express in front of him. 

Harry was about to walk out onto the platform but Remus pulled him back. Tonks stepped out and looked at their surroundings.

"The coast is clear," Tonks said as she turned back to them. "Go on, we don't have much time to spare. There's supposed to be a compartment reserved in the last carriage. Look for a locked door. And here's the password to open it," she said quietly, pressing a slip of paper into Harry's hand.

They heaved the trunks onto the last carriage just as the train let out a loud whistle, warning of its near departure. Tonks and Remus said their goodbyes quickly.

"Take care. Have a good year," Remus said.

"Have fun and don't worry too much," Tonks yelled over the sounds of the train as it started to gear up. 

They hugged everyone in turn and Remus pulled Harry aside at last while Hermione, Ron, and Ginny boarded the train. 

"Harry, I don't need to tell you to watch out for yourself. You know that too well already. But I want to hear from you on a regular basis. And remember that I'll always be here if you ever want to talk. All right?" Remus waited for Harry's nod of assent. 

Remus continued, "Go to Dumbledore immediately if you have any pains in your scar or any strange dreams. If Snape gives you any trouble with your Occlumency lessons, let me know."

"All right," Harry agreed dully, not enjoying the reminder of the resumption of his Occlumency lessons when he had been able to avoid them for the past couple of weeks. 

Remus hugged him quickly and helped him onto the train as the wheels started to turn.

"Goodbye, Harry!" "We'll see you soon!" Remus and Tonks yelled as the train started to pick up speed and left the station. 

Harry found Ginny, Ron, and Hermione waiting with their trunks by the door to the last compartment. 

"Oh dear," Hermione said, looking at her watch, "I bet the prefects meeting has already started. Ron, we're going to be late."

"Go ahead," Harry offered. "We'll store your things."

"Oh would you, Harry?" Hermione said gratefully. "Thanks. We'll come back shortly."

"See ya, Harry," Ron said as they ran off towards the front of the train, leaving Harry and Ginny alone in the corridor with four trunks, Hedwig, Pigwidgeon, and Crookshanks. 

"So what's the password, Harry?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, right," Harry said, pulling the slip of paper out of his pocket. "Let's see_Pumpkin Pasties_!"

There was a click and Ginny pushed the door open. They dragged the trunks inside and stowed them away in the overhead luggage racks before collapsing with exhaustion side by side on one of the benches. 

"What was in Ron's trunk? It weighed a ton," Harry said.

"You thought his was bad?" Ginny asked incredulously. "Hermione must have fifty books in hers. "

"Fifty-nine actually."

Ginny looked at him with surprise and laughed.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "She told us yesterday after she packed," he explained. "Ginny, you should have asked me to help you with that."

"Believe it or not, Harry Potter, I am not as weak as I may appear to be," she commented, smiling at him.

"I know you're not," he replied seriously, meeting her eyes. If there was one thing he had learned about Ginny Weasley over the past year, it was that she was not weak. She was young and a bit small, but her inner strength belied her outward appearance. 

Ginny blushed at his reply and averted her gaze. She suddenly became quiet and an awkward silence followed. 

He cleared his throat. "It's kind of strange with just the two of us this time, isn't it?"

"Strange isn't the word I would use," Ginny said as she stared out at the countryside rolling past their window. 

Harry wondered vaguely what word she might use, but found that he agreed with her. Strange was not the right word. Except for that one awkward moment, he would have to say that if feltcomfortable to be alone with Ginny. Perhaps it was because he had grown accustomed to her company since they had spent so much time together over the past couple of weeks. Or perhaps it was simply more relaxing to be with one person rather than several. In any case, it was a good feeling and strange had not been the appropriate word. He felt some need to explain himself.

"I mean usually there are more people in the compartment; Ron, Hermione, Neville, LunaDo you think we should look for Neville and Luna? Maybe they're alone."

"Well," Ginny said, looking somewhat happier than she had a moment before, "Luna will be in the prefect carriage with Ron and Hermione. I imagine she'll join them when they return."

"Luna was made a prefect?" he asked, surprised. 

"Yes, she wrote me a letter last week and mentioned it," Ginny explained somewhat less than enthusiastically. He supposed she was thinking about her own lack of a prefect badge and the new broom that would have come with it. 

Thinking of the Nimbus Chaser he had bought for her, he struggled to suppress a grin that threatened to break free. Unfortunately, Ginny noticed the strange look on his face.

"What's up?" she asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," he said, trying to sound casual, but answering a little too quickly.

Still eyeing him with curiosity, Ginny asked, "How about if I go and try to find Neville?" She paused. He was about to say that he would go with her when she continued. "Maybe I'll find Dean too. They're probably together."

"All right," Harry answered resignedly. Suddenly not interested in joining her, he leaned back in his seat.

"I'll be back in a bit," Ginny said as she walked into the corridor and closed the door behind her.

As soon as she had gone, Hedwig hooted reproachfully at him.

"What?" he snapped at her. Hedwig stepped back in her cage and blinked her eyes blankly at him.

"Sorry, you're probably cramped in there," Harry said to her apologetically as he opened her cage. Hedwig stretched her wings proudly and perched atop her cage. He released Pigwidgeon and Crookshanks as well and soon the compartment seemed much more lively than it had a moment before. He took the seat next to the window and watched while Pigwidgeon flew happily around a very annoyed Hedwig. Crookshanks jumped on his lap and curled up for a nap. 

Unable to move now, he tried to think of something to do and remembered that his mother's diary was still sitting in his pocket. Pulling out the diary, he flipped it open and thumbed through the first few pages before he started to read.

_September 15th, 1975_

_Day 14 in my efforts to remain civil with James Potter, at which I admit that I am failing. The boy just gets on my nerves all too easily. And I am beginning to realize that my reaction to him is irrational. I haven't caught him hexing students at random or throwing dungbombs at Slytherins or any of the other stupid pranks he usually pulls. He hasn't even been ruffling his hair like he used to (although yesterday I caught him about to do it and he stopped immediately when he saw me). Maybe he has changed. Maybe he does deserve a second chance, but he doesn't make it easy._

_Every time I try to be kind to him, he sees that as an opening to ask me out. At which point, I explode at him as usual, despite the fact that it never seems to have an effect. After the way I've treated him, why is he still interested? _

_But I must admit that it was rather charming when he Transfigured my quill into a rose the other day. Of course it would have been a great deal more charming if he had waited until I had finished the written portion of my Potions exam. And he might have worked harder on creating a rose without thorns. My thumb is still raw from where a thorn punctured it when the rose suddenly appeared where I had been holding the quill. _

_Still I suppose if he's doing relatively harmless things (well at least harmless to everyone but me) like transforming quills into roses, it's better than bullying other students. And he seems to be taking his role as Head Boy fairly seriously. Today he even docked points from Sirius Black for sleeping through Professor Maldon's class. This was startling not only because Potter and Black act practically like brothers but because Potter himself falls asleep in Professor Binns's class all the time. It seems that Potter must have a greater appreciation for Defense Against the Dark Arts than History of Magic._

_Ah, but I find myself going on about Potter in order to delay (and avoid) the real news of the day. I received a letter from Edgar this morning. The first word I've heard from him in three months. It appears that he's been traveling constantly since leaving Hogwarts and is living in India at the moment. Strange to compare last year's Head Boy with this year's-_

Harry was startled from his reading when the door slammed open loudly and Ginny appeared breathless in the frame of the door. Crookshanks was so startled that he hissed and dug his claws into Harry's leg as he jumped off. 

"What's wrong?" he asked as Ginny stepped in, followed closely by Neville, Ron, and Hermione.

Ginny stopped to catch her breath and passed Harry the newspaper clutched in her hands. "Readthis!" she gasped between breaths.

Harry took the paper from her and opened it, revealing the current issue of the _Daily Prophet_. In large, bold type, the headline read:

**MINISTRY UNCOVERS SPY IN THEIR MIDST**

With great shock, Harry looked at the photograph that accompanied the article and recognized the woman within it who was flailing her short arms against her arresters. Her hair was in curlers and she was wearing her dressing gown but he would never forget the toad-like face of Dolores Umbridge.

He quickly looked to the text below and began to read aloud:

_"In a surprising development yesterday evening, the former Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic and a high-ranking member of the Wizengamot, Dolores Jane Umbridge, was arrested at her home by the Minister himself and no less than half a dozen of the Ministry's best Aurors. Umbridge has since been held on charges of being a Death Eater and conspiracy with the Dark Lord himself. _

_"If Umbridge's name sounds familiar, there is a good reason for it. This was the very woman that the Minister appointed as the 'High Inquisitor' and then headmistress of Hogwarts just last year. After an unfortunate accident last June, Umbridge was demoted but remained in a less visible position within the Ministry until now._

_"When asked about the arrest yesterday, the Minister had this to say: 'Yes, it's a very sad turn of events. We never want to believe that our own people could betray us, but we will let Dolores Umbridge stand as an example to others who may be tempted to join Lord Thingy. The Ministry under my watch will not allow such activity to go unpunished and we will root out Death Eaters wherever they may hide, even if that happens to be within the Ministry itself.'_

_"According to Ministry officials, Umbridge's arrest came after a lengthy private investigation following complaints from the parents of some of her students the previous year. The Ministry claims to have found numerous dark arts objects in Umbridge's possession (some of which she has reportedly used on her students at Hogwarts), as well as friendly relations with known Death Eaters, and an unknown source has alleged that she attempted an Unforgiveable Curse on no less than the Boy Who Lived himself, Harry Potter."_

Harry stopped reading. "How did they know about that?" he asked. 

They all shook their heads or shrugged their shoulders. 

"No idea. Keep reading," Hermione urged.

Harry, somewhat shaken, picked up the paper and continued reading:  


"_If the Ministry is able to support these statements, Umbridge may have a difficult time building a defense when she goes to trial. If she is proven to be a Death Eater, her sentence may soon be far worse than a lifetime in Azkaban. _

_"Since the dementors deserted Azkaban and left Ministry control, there have been serious doubts about the security of the Azkaban fortress. There are sixty Aurors working at Azkaban now to guard the Death Eaters currently being held, but many of these Aurors are young and undertrained, hardly a reliable force against the likes of You-Know-Who. So with all of the security and personnel problems of maintaining a constant watch over the imprisoned Death Eaters, not to mention the danger and likeliness of an attack by You-Know-Who, the Ministry is increasingly looking to other options. It has been widely speculated that they are considering a renewal of the death penalty in these cases. _

_"For those unfamiliar with this aspect of wizarding history, wizards sentenced to death were ordered to walk through the veil in the Death Chamber, now part of the Department of Mysteries. In 1872, the Ministry decided to cease using the death penalty amid protests after a man named Henry Ludlow was ordered to walk through the veil for murdering his wife and was later found to be innocent of the charges. The Ministry decided to replace the death penalty at that time with the Dementor's Kiss, believing it to be a more humane punishment._"

Finishing the article, Harry sat stunned and looked into the equally astonished faces of his friends. He felt a huge mix of emotions and thoughts about what he had read and was having difficulty grasping it all at once. But there was one thing he knew without doubt - it was definitely going to be an interesting year.  


* * *

_Author's Note: Thank you to my wonderful Sugar Quill beta-reader, Ozma, and to my brand new canon proofer, Delleve! Look forward in the next chapter to a brand new Sorting Hat song._

_P.S. The part about Victoria Station in this chapter had to come mostly from my head, though I tried to research it, so any British readers out there, please let me know if there is anything I need to change in that passage or anything I can state more specifically about the location of the lifts and I will change that section and repost this chapter. _  



	14. Ch 14: A Secret Revealed

**Harry Potter and the Forbidden Passage**  
  
by Cendrillon

_Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to the creative mind of J.K. Rowling and I am not receiving any monetary compensation for this story. I am merely borrowing the characters for my own and your amusement during what will no doubt be a long wait for Book 6._

_Recap: In the previous chapter, Harry had just read a newspaper article, while on the Hogwarts Express, stating that Dolores Umbridge was arrested on charges of being a Death Eater. In the same article, the Ministry was rumored to be reinstating the death penalty due to the absence of the dementors and fears that the Death Eaters currently being held would escape. The following scene takes place just after they have heard this news.  
_

* * *

**Chapter 14: A Secret Revealed **   
  
"Well, I can't say that I'm too surprised," Ron said as he took the seat across from Harry. "Umbridge certainly acted like a Death Eater. I mean, who wouldn't think she was teamed up with You-Know-Who after what she did to Harry? That woman was just horrible. And look at how she treated the Slytherins, especially Malfoy."

"That doesn't mean she's a Death Eater, Ron," Hermione argued as she settled next to Harry. Crookshanks immediately transferred from Harry's lap to hers. Ginny resumed her place next to the window while Neville moved Hedwig's cage and took the seat opposite.

_The world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters_. Sirius had said those words less than a year ago when Harry had questioned Umbridge's behavior and now they echoed in his mind. That article in the _Daily Prophet_ had reminded him too painfully of so many things.

Ron's and Hermione's voices faded as Harry was pulled deeper and deeper into the painful memories that threatened to drown him - memories of Sirius and his desperate and near fatal attempt to speak with him through the veil. The thought of Death Eaters and Umbridge following his godfather through the veil made him physically sick. They may or may not deserve death but they certainly didn't deserve to be anywhere near Sirius Black.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" he mumbled as he forced himself back into the present.

"Harry, are you all right? I was just asking you how you felt about the article and you didn't respond," Hermione said with concern.

It was with some embarrassment that Harry realized all eyes in the train compartment were on him.

"SorryI didn't hear you. I was justthinking," his voice trailed off.

"Umbridge in Azkaban. It's bloody brilliant, don't you think, Harry?" Ron said gleefully, rubbing his hands together. "At least she'll finally get hers. Too bad the dementors won't be around to give her a taste of what she did to you last year, mate."

"Ron," Hermione said sharply, "it's not brilliant if she's innocent of the charges. And they'll have her put to death if she's convicted! How can you call that proper justice? It's not as though she's ever killed anyone."

"For all you know," Ron mumbled. "I wouldn't put it past her. I mean, you remember when Harry came back from those detentions and his hand was a bloody mess."

"What?" Neville gasped. "She did that to you, Harry?" His face was a mix of concern and disgust. "I saw the blood on your hand once but I thought it was an accident or something."

Reluctantly, Harry told Neville about the quill that had etched his own writing into the back of his hand until the words had been cut so deep that he'd bled openly.

Harry looked down at the back of his right hand. He subtly turned it towards the window until he saw the glimmer where his skin changed texture. In just the right light, he could still make out the razor thin lines now etched into his skin eternally.

But as he looked up, he knew that he wasn't the only one who could see the scars. Ginny, sitting beside him, was frowning as she stared at his hand. Harry adjusted his hand so that the scars were no longer visible.

"She's a horrible, wicked woman and she deserves whatever she gets," Ginny said with conviction. Her face was set and her eyes narrowed.

"I know she's horrible," Hermione said sensitively. "We all know she's horrible and cruel and foul and the lowest form of human being." She paused as though to gather her thoughts. "And what she has done can never be forgiven. But I can't help but think that this is just part of the Ministry's attempt to project an image that they are in control. Instead of going after the real Death Eaters, they're misleading the public and leading a - well, there's no better way to describe it - a witch hunt."

"Personally," Ron said, "I can't think of a better witch to hunt and I can't believe you're defending her, Hermione."

"I'm not defending her, Ron. I just think that the charges are wrong."

"Well, I don't think they're so far off," Ron responded with finality. "She certainly acts like a Death Eater. And she sent those dementors after Harry last year. She could have killed him."

"But she didn't," Harry said forcefully, successfully ending the argument. Complete silence met him as everyone stared at him in surprise. He continued, "Listen, let's just talk about something else, all right? Did you have a good summer, Neville?"

Neville looked somewhat startled before he responded, "Yeah, pretty good. Gran bought me a new wand. You know I had been using my Dad's old wand before it broke at" he looked with sudden concern at Harry, apparently worried about reminding him of that fateful day at the Ministry, "atyou remember."

Harry nodded solemnly.

"So," Neville continued, "I had to replace it. The new one is walnut, twelve inches with unicorn hair in the core," he said proudly. "But I haven't been able to try it out yet, you know. Mr. Ollivander reckoned that it may improve my spellwork though."

Harry doubted that anything beyond hours of extra practice could improve Neville's skills, but he smiled politely.

As the train rattled northwards, Ron and Hermione told them about the prefect meeting. Ron was anxious to tell him that Luna was a prefect but was somewhat disappointed to find out that Harry already knew. But one bit of news did surprise Harry.

"Malfoy wasn't there?"

"Nope," Ron said gleefully, looking quite pleased as he set up his chess set. "But you're going to love this - Blaise Zabini was there, representing the Slytherins."

"But Zabini's in our year and he wasn't a prefect last year."

"Exactly," Ron said with a triumphant chortle. "I reckon Dumbledore took away Malfoy's prefect badge and gave it to Zabini. I mean, who wants the son of a Death Eater in a position of power, right?"

Harry wholeheartedly agreed and nodded as he organized the white chess pieces on the board in front of him.

"But that doesn't make sense," Hermione said. "Dumbledore knew that Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater before he selected Malfoy as a prefect. It had to be something else."

"Dumbledore probably finally realized what a git Malfoy is. Look at that whole business with Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad last year. I didn't see any of them in the prefect carriage."

"HmmMaybe," Hermione said uncertainly.

Ron's remark reminded Harry of something. "You know, I still don't understand how the Ministry knew that Umbridge tried to use an Unforgivable on me. I mean the Inquisitorial Squad was there, but it's not like they would snitch on Umbridge."

"I wouldn't be so sure. Slytherins would probably do anything to save their own skins," Ron replied scathingly.

"True, but still it doesn't seem likely," Harry said. "And if it wasn't them, that only leaves the five of us and"

Just as he was about to say her name, she appeared at the door.

"Luna," Harry finished.

"Hello, everyone," Luna said dreamily as she strolled into the compartment and sat next to Ron. She was still taking to the habit of sticking her wand behind one ear, but the necklace of butterbeer caps had disappeared. She now wore a blue beret on which her prefect badge was pinned crookedly.

"Hi, Luna. How was your summer?" Ginny asked politely.

"Find any Crumple-Horned Snorkacks?" Hermione asked, smirking slightly.

"Yes, actually, we did. Well, we didn't really see them, because they're invisible to humans you know. But we found their footprints and followed them to a nest. It was very exciting."

Hermione snorted. "If you can't see them, how can you be sure-"

She stopped mid-sentence as Harry elbowed her.

"Ouch, Har-"

"So Luna," Harry interrupted, glaring at Hermione as he phrased his words carefully, "We were just talking aboutUmbridge. Somehow the Ministry found out that Umbridge tried to use the Cruciatus curse when she trapped us in her office. I don't suppose you would have any idea how they could have known that?"

Luna looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, it could be a few things, couldn't it? Of course there are all of the Minister's spies. They're everywhere you know. Cornelius Fudge has an army of spies who are being trained to Transfigure themselves into ordinary objects. They can just sit about and appear as a harmless quill, a book, or a piece of parchment. There was an article in the Quibbler about it just yesterday."

As Luna said this, Harry looked at Hermione who had rolled her eyes in exasperation. He could see that she wouldn't be able to hold herself back.

Sure enough, the words streamed out of Hermione's mouth as soon as Luna had spoken. "Wizards can't turn themselves into ob-"

A well-aimed kick to the shin quieted Hermione once again.

"Go on, Luna," Harry urged, hoping to hear a more realistic explanation.   
  
Luna frowned at Hermione before turning back to Harry and continuing. "Well..." she looked thoughtful, "Of course I might have mentioned something when they interviewed me that night."

"What?" Harry asked, startled, and heard the same question echoed by Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville.

"Luna," Ginny said, "you never told us that they'd interviewed you."

"Oh, didn't I?" Luna asked vaguely. "I thought you would have known. I mean, the rest of you were all injured and Dumbledore wouldn't let anyone speak to Harry, so that just left me, didn't it?"   
  
As much as he had thought of that night, this possibility had not occurred to Harry. He had just assumed that Dumbledore had been the only one to update the Ministry on the situation. But naturally they would have wanted to speak to one of them. Thinking back, he should have been more surprised that no one from the Ministry had approached any of them after the fact.

"Well, you know we really should go," Luna said sternly to Hermione and Ron. "We're supposed to be patrolling the corridors."

Hermione and Ron stared at Luna as though she had two heads as she stood up and slid the door open to leave.

"Ronald, are you coming?" Luna called from the doorway.

Ron raised one eyebrow as he shared a glance with Hermione. Ginny shook with stifled laughter.

"Go ahead, LunaWe'll follow in a few minutes," Ron called awkwardly.

An hour and a half later, they had gorged themselves on sweets from the old witch's trolley. And more importantly, Ginny had just beaten Ron at a game of wizard chess after he had defeated Harry, Neville, and Hermione in succession. It was at this point that Hermione finally decided that they should indeed resume their prefect duties.

The rest of the journey seemed to pass quickly. Harry, Ginny, and Neville played Exploding Snap and Gobstones, having had enough of chess for the time being. Hermione and Ron stopped by briefly to let them know that they would be arriving in Hogsmeade shortly. Neville left to rejoin Dean and Seamus and gather his things. Harry spent the rest of the journey rereading the newspaper article about Umbridge while Ginny completed the crossword in the _Daily Prophet_. When the train began to slow, they hoisted the trunks down from the luggage rack and quickly put on their robes.

"Harry, can you handle Pigwidgeon?" Ginny asked as she caught the tiny owl and stuffed him back into his cage. "I'll take Crookshanks."

He nodded his affirmative. "Why don't you have a pet, Ginny?" he asked inquisitively.

"Well, there aren't any more in the family to pass down, are there?" she said, smiling slightly. She picked up Crookshanks and urged him into his basket. "You know why I don't have a familiar, Harry. It's for the same reason that I don't have a broom. But it's all right, I don't mind. Ron lets me borrow Pig when I like."

The train screeched as it came to a halt in the Hogsmeade station. Harry had to be careful to hide the grin that threatened to spread across his face at the remembrance that, as of tomorrow, Ginny would at least have a broom of her own. He held up Hedwig's cage in one hand and Pigwidgeon's in the other and led the way to join the jostling queue of students exiting the train.

Peering above the heads of the first-years in front of him, he searched the crowd for any sign of Ron's bright red hair or Hermione's bushy brown hair as they stepped down from the train.

"Potter!" a painfully familiar voice called behind him.

Harry closed his eyes and sighed before he turned around.

"Malfoy," Harry acknowledged with hesitation. Draco Malfoy approached him, closely followed by Crabbe and Goyle. Nott seemed to have joined their little trio as well.

"When did you get on this train, Potter? I didn't see you at King's Cross," Malfoy snapped, looking positively outraged.

"How kind of you to notice, Malfoy," Harry smirked. "I didn't know that you cared so much about my whereabouts."

Malfoy's eyes flashed dangerously. "Have a good summer, Potter?" he drawled, acid dripping from his voice. "Bet you just loved having your name in the papers and being given awards for stupidity, I meanwhat did they call it, Goyle?"

Goyle grunted in response.

"Oh yes," Malfoy said, as though he had comprehended Goyle's response, "an award for bravery. Well, what is bravery really but stupidity I say." Malfoy started laughing, prompting Crabbe and Goyle to follow.

Harry was about to retort but Ginny beat him to it.

"I'd take a brave man any day over a selfish, spoiled coward who hides behind a couple of brainless thugs he calls friends."

Ginny left no doubt as to whom she was referring.

"You'll pay for that, Weasley," Malfoy said, glaring at her. "You're just like your brother, you don't know when to hold your tongue."

Harry felt an intense desire to hit Malfoy, but held back. He wouldn't give Malfoy the satisfaction of causing him to earn any punishments or detentions as he had done last year. He chose a verbal assault instead.

"And how was your summer, Malfoy? Have fun visiting your father in Azkaban?"

Malfoy moved as though he would strike Harry when suddenly a hand came between them.

"Is there a problem here, Malfoy?" Ron said as he positioned himself in front of Harry. He folded his arms resolutely and stared at Malfoy.

Harry noticed with amusement that Draco's eyes kept flittering to Ron's prominently pinned prefect badge.

Ron inched closer to Draco until he was staring down at him. "Pleaseplease tell me there's a problem, Malfoy," Ron said threateningly.

Malfoy cursed and glared at Ron.

"No?" Ron asked innocently. "Well, then I guess you'd better just be on your way. And take your trolls with you," he said, glancing at Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott.

Malfoy and his henchmen walked away cursing, heading off to the black carriages waiting to drive them all to Hogwarts.   
  
Ron stared fixedly at them, looking quite serious. As soon as they were out of sight, he let out a whoop of triumph and laughed out loud.

"Did you see that, Harry? It was brilliant! This year is going to be bloody amazing!"

Harry grinned and laughed with his best friend as Ron reveled in the afterglow of their encounter with Draco Malfoy. It was minutes before Hermione finally found them and dragged them off to the last carriage.

As they approached the carriage, Harry felt some trepidation. He had been nervous for some time about seeing the thestrals again, thinking that they would bring back too many painful memories. But when he saw them now, despite their terrifying appearance, he was surprised to find that he felt neither sadness nor fear, but a different feeling entirely. These beasts had offered help the moment he asked it of them and he owed them his gratitude. Approaching the nearest one, he patted it appreciatively before joining the others in the carriage.

Not even a month ago, Harry had felt so depressed that he wasn't sure he could handle another school year. He'd expected that he would be too caught up in his grief to deal with classes and homework and every other mundane thing that life demanded of him. But now, as he looked out the window of the carriage and watched the façade of Hogwarts growing ever closer, he felt relief. Perhaps the daily routine of school was just what he needed. There would be so many distractions - homework, friends, Quidditch, and making Malfoy's life miserable. Surely these things would take his mind away from his haunted thoughts.

The carriage pulled to a stop in front of the enormous oak doors at the castle's entrance. They stepped down from the carriage and joined the crowd streaming into the Great Hall. Even after five full years at Hogwarts, Harry still found himself looking up at the ceiling with amazement every time he entered the Great Hall for the start of term feast. The sky had turned a hazy shade of violet as the sun sank beyond the horizon, signaling the end of this sweet summer's day. The shallow light of the forthcoming twilight was augmented by hundreds of candles floating above them.

Being among the last to enter, they found that the Gryffindor table was already filling up. Fortunately, Dean, Seamus, and Neville had saved them some seats toward the front. Ginny immediately chose to sit next to Dean, leaving one seat beside her and two on the opposite side.

Ron looked at Dean warily and then looked at Harry. He smiled coyly. "Harry, why don't you sit next to Ginny? Hermione and I will take this side."

"Erall right," Harry replied, somewhat confused by Ron's strange behavior, as he settled himself in the space between Ginny and Euan Abercrombie.

As usual, Harry found himself instantly scanning the staff table. He smiled when he saw Hagrid seated in his usual spot. He had naturally seen Hagrid when they had exited the train, but it was still reassuring to see him here as well.

He scanned the rest of the table and noted all of the regular teachers. Professor Dumbledore was seated alone in the center, looking around the hall somewhat amused. Professor Sprout was showing some strange looking plant with pink flowers and long curly leaves to Professor Flitwick. Professor Sinistra was speaking with Professor Vector and pointing through the ceiling at something in the sky.

When his eyes fell upon Snape, Harry found him speaking with a strange man.

"That must be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Ron commented. "I wonder why Snape's so chummy with him?"

It was odd, Snape did seem to be somewhat familiar with this man. They were around the same age, the man was probably in his late 30's, Harry estimated.

"Isn't he handsome?" Lavender said to Parvati, several seats down the table. They were obviously talking about the new professor.

Parvati nodded enthusiastically in agreement and they both sighed. Harry rolled his eyes and found the other Gryffindor boys doing the same.

"That's all we need," Ron said, "another Lockhart."

"Well," Ginny admitted, "he is rather good-looking."

Hermione said nothing but the edges of her mouth curled upwards as she stared at the new teacher.

Looking up at the man, Harry felt cross. The last thing they needed with Voldemort back was another Lockhart who wouldn't recognize a vampire if it bit him in the neck. The book list for their defense class this year had actually given him hopes that they might have a decent teacher.

The behavior of the girls increased his irritation tenfold and he couldn't understand what was so extraordinary about this man. His face was admittedly what some would call handsome, framed gracefully by dark brown wavy hair that Lockhart could have been proud of. His features were angular and he had a strong chin. But there was a haunted, intense look about him that was unsettling. He could be considered good-looking if one liked that tall, dark, and broody look. His skin was tanned, as though he had just returned from holiday on a beach somewhere. And his robes were odd - he was impeccably dressed, but the robes he wore were nothing like the crisp, black ones that the other teachers wore. His were exotic, they were made of some loose flowing material with intricate patterns embroidered along the edges that reminded Harry of pictures he had seen of wizards in the far east.

The chattering and gossiping that filled the Great Hall died down as Professor McGonagall entered the room followed by a straight line of nervous first-years. The first-years lined up in front of the staff table looking awestruck at their surroundings and the hundreds of older students before them. One young girl with two long black plaits looked terrified. Harry recalled how Fred had told Ron that he would have to battle a troll for the sorting and wondered if this girl had been told something similar.

The entire hall watched in barely contained anticipation as Professor McGonagall brought out the old ragged wizard's hat and dropped it onto the stool set prominently in front of the staff table.

The first years looked at the hat with confusion and then surprise as the wide rip at the brim opened wide and the Sorting Hat began to sing:

_Welcome new and old alike  
As we begin another year.  
Soon the sorting will commence, but wait  
For I've a tale for you to hear._

_Listen closely, listen well  
For my words hold more than truth.  
The story that I will tell  
May yet affect those in their youth._

_Long ago in this very place,  
Hogwarts was built by founders four.  
United in purpose, they sought to tell  
The secrets of wizard craft and lore._

_Four friends torn by civil strife  
Could not agree on whom to teach  
All prized one virtue above the rest,  
But at last they agreed on a House for each._

_To Ravenclaw go only the wisest,  
To Slytherin go those who hunger for power,  
Fair Hufflepuff for those who are loyal,  
While the bravest live in Gryffindor Tower._

_The brightest minds rest in Ravenclaw,  
at Rowena Ravenclaw's request.  
They excel at potions, stars, and spells,  
But when it comes to war, will they pass the test?_

_Or slumber below in Slytherin  
Among those with ambition and cunning.  
They think themselves above the rest,  
But only failure will come from shunning._

_Or perhaps you'll go to Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart.  
With the Boy Who Lived you will succeed,  
If all will do their part._

_The rest will go to Hufflepuff,  
The House which is fair and just.  
Their loyalty will prove some worth,  
If all work together as they must._

_Beyond these walls and all around us  
Darkness stirs and gathers forces,   
But hope shall rise again you see,  
If you unite beyond your courses._

_He with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord  
Lies within these walls.  
If all will rally and join him,  
You may yet save these hallowed halls._

_Now brave first years stand in line  
and wait for my decree.  
As one you entered Hogwarts' gate  
but now divided you must be._

Silence filled the Great Hall when the Sorting Hat had finished its song. For the first time that Harry could remember, there was no applause that followed. The previous year there had only been slight applause but this year there was nothing except hundreds of jaws dropped in shock. The first-years, who had already naturally looked frightened when they entered the Great Hall, now appeared to be petrified. Even the teachers remained curiously silent.

Then suddenly, noise swelled rapidly around him as everyone started whispering to each other all at once. Quite a few heads turned in Harry's direction and many fingers were pointing at him. It was with some disturbance that Harry noticed that Ron and Hermione were both looking at him quite intently, making him feel instantly uncomfortable. It was as though his secret had been revealed for all. The prophesied destiny that he had kept secret for the past three months now was known in part to the entire student body of Hogwarts. It didn't matter that the Sorting Hat had not said his name, it had mentioned the Boy Who Lived.

He didn't care about the feast anymore, he wanted to leave. He wanted to be invisible. He wanted to avoid answering questions or receiving these looks from his best friends for the next two hours as the first-years were sorted, the announcements were made, and the feast was eaten.

In desperation, he looked at Dumbledore. The old wizard was frowning and looked disturbed. When Harry caught his eye, Dumbledore shook his head almost imperceptibly. The meaning was clear - that he could not escape, that he must stay and act as though he knew nothing more than any of the other students.

"Silence!" Dumbledore called sternly above the din as he stood up. The whispers fell silent as quickly as they had begun. "Well, that was certainly an interesting start to our year. The Sorting Hat seems to be growing more lively in its old age, rather like myself." He had assumed a joking manner that seemed to be achieving the desired effect of putting the entire room at ease. "But we are here to welcome your new classmates, not to discuss the tales of an old hat, so let us continue the sorting and show some respect for our newest arrivals."

The tension in the room was thick but the room remained silent as Hyacinth Abbott was sorted into Hufflepuff with her sister, Hannah.

"Arundell, John," McGonagall called next and a boy with sandy blonde hair sat on the stool and pulled the hat on.

"Gryffindor," shouted the Sorting Hat after a few seconds. The small boy looked very happy as he was applauded and joined the Gryffindor table. He was joined only a minute later by another first-year, Bridget Bergin.

Harry was so anxious for the night to end that he was barely paying attention to the rest of the sorting. He looked up briefly when the small black-haired girl who had looked so frightened before the sorting approached the stool when McGonagall called, "Fairfax, Nigella." She was sorted into Ravenclaw almost instantly and appeared very pleased with that decision.

Harry glanced at his watch after a young girl named Jill Riley was sorted into Ravenclaw and greeted eagerly by Luna Lovegood. It seemed as though several hours had passed since the sorting began, but it had been only fifteen minutes.

There was an upset near the end of the sorting when two identical twin sisters were sorted into completely opposite Houses. Williams, Felicia was sorted into Hufflepuff with a few gasps while her sister, Iris, was sorted into Slytherin and received much applause from that end. He gathered that the Williams family was apparently well-known in the wizarding world and that they had always lived in Slytherin. He wondered whether poor Felicia would be as ostracized from her family as Sirius had been when he was sorted into a different house.

As soon as Iris had taken her seat at the Slytherin table, Dumbledore arose.

"Welcome! Welcome to Hogwarts! There is much to say but now is a time for eating, not for speaking. So let the feast commence!"

Dumbledore raised both hands with these last words and the tables instantly filled up with more food than anyone could eat in a year. Plates appeared before them all. Harry was so used to this by now that he almost scooped a spoonful of potatoes onto his plate before he actually looked down at it and saw a letter with his name on the envelope sitting in the center.

Setting the spoon back, he picked up the letter and ripped it open. The note attached was very brief and written in Dumbledore's familiar narrow handwriting. It said:

_Come to my office after the feast. The password is Sugared Violets._

Well, surely this had to be about the Sorting Hat's revelation. Harry wasn't sure what Dumbledore would say, but this meeting seemed a blessing in disguise. If he had to talk to Dumbledore, he wouldn't have to go back to the dormitory with the others. He could avoid the questions for a little while longer.

The feast passed in relative silence. No one seemed to think this the right time to discuss what was on all of their minds. Somehow, despite the fact that he no longer felt hungry, Harry managed to consume a large steak, some potatoes and legumes, and a bowl of toffee pudding before the plates were cleared and Dumbledore rose again to give his start of term announcements.

"As you all must know by now," Dumbledore began, "a few things have changed since last year and I anticipate that this school year will be somewhat more satisfying than the last. The new regulations that were passed last year have been abolished. I think we all hope that they will stay that way. But now is a time to look to the future and not to the past, so in that vein, I would like you all to welcome the newest member of our staff, Professor Ramsey."

The new teacher rose from his seat next to Snape and gave a short nod to the assemblage.

Dumbledore continued, "Professor Ramsey has just arrived from his current mission in Egypt to join us as your new teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts. I have every faith that you will all learn a great deal under his guidance."

There was loud applause for Professor Ramsey as Dumbledore finished, but most of it came enthusiastically from the female population of Hogwarts. Harry noticed suspiciously that the loudest cheering seemed to be coming from the Slytherin table, closely followed by Ravenclaw.

Dumbledore continued with the usual start of term announcements and reminders. Soon enough, the feast was over and people were getting up to leave. Ron and Hermione along with the new fifth-year prefects, Rosemary Bennett and Colin Creevey, led the excited first-years up to the dormitory. Meanwhile, Harry split up from the others at the door and made his way as inconspicuously as he could to Dumbledore's office.

A half an hour later, Harry walked out of Dumbledore's office, with his Invisibility Cloak draped over one arm. Dumbledore had handed back his cloak as promised, after taking it away at the Ministry.

The meeting had not been about what Harry had expected. In fact, much to Harry's surprise, Dumbledore had not even mentioned the Sorting Hat's song. When Harry had asked about it, Dumbledore had dismissed it, saying that nothing had been said that Voldemort didn't already know. But it meant more to Harry. It had obviously aroused curiosity from Ron and Hermione and Harry would have to tell them about the prophecy eventually.

But there was little that Harry could have said to Dumbledore at their meeting, because they had not been alone. When Harry had opened Dumbledore's office door, he'd been surprised to see that Professor Ramsey was there as well. It hadn't taken long for Harry to discover why he was there.

"I have some good news for you, Harry," Dumbledore had said. "You will no longer have to take Occlumency lessons from Professor Snape. Professor Ramsey has extraordinary talents in this field, better even than my own, and he has kindly agreed to continue your lessons. In fact, I recruited him primarily for this purpose."

Harry supposed he should be happy about this turn of events. Maybe he would actually make some progress with a new Occlumency teacher. But instead he felt trepidation. At least he knew where he stood with Snape, but Ramsey was a mystery. And after two evil teachers, two incompetent teachers, and a werewolf, he didn't feel that he should start trusting the latest Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor - they always seemed to have a secret and three out of five had tried to kill him in some way or other.

Not ready to go back to Gryffindor Tower, Harry headed up to the Owlery and wrote a quick note to Remus telling him about the new professor and the resumption of Occlumency lessons. He sat next to Hedwig for a while, just thinking as he looked out the window towards the Forbidden Forest. Smoke rose from Hagrid's chimney and all seemed calm and tranquil beneath the light of the waxing moon. He tied the letter to Hedwig's leg and watched as she flew off until she was no more than a tiny speck in the sky.

By the time he returned to Gryffindor Tower, it was well past curfew and there was no one around the entrance. Fortunately, Ron had told him the password before they left the Great Hall.

"Bouncing Ferret," Harry said with a grin when the Fat Lady greeted him from her portrait.

The portrait swung open and Harry quickly put on his Invisibility Cloak before entering. There were few people left in the common room, but nevertheless, he hoped to avoid as many as possible this evening. When he opened the door to his dormitory, he found all four boys already asleep. Ron, however, was sitting halfway up, propped against a couple of pillows with a copy of Martin Miggs in his hands. He had clearly tried to stay up until Harry returned but had failed miserably.

Harry, too, felt exhausted from the long day and collapsed in his own bed without even changing. As he drifted off to sleep, his thoughts turned to Professor Ramsey and he wondered what had happened to this man to make him so great at Occlumency. But that answer would have to wait for another day.

* * *

_Author's Note:  
Many thanks to Ozma for her speedy and brilliant beta-reading, to my readers for their patience, to my sister for her assistance with the Sorting Hat song and plot brain-storming, and to Nigella for her feedback on the names of my first-years. _

_Since she didn't make the cut for this chapter, I just wanted to add that one of my favorite new first-years, Ariadne Minosa, was sorted into Gryffindor. I may post the more complete listing of first-years in the review thread. Answers to most reader questions can be found there as well. Also, I am working on a short story about how the prefects in Harry's class were selected, so you will find out the circumstances that led to Draco and Ron (and not Harry) being selected in the summer before their fifth year._


	15. Ch 15: Owl Delivery

**Harry Potter and the Forbidden Passage**

by Cendrillon 

_Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to the creative mind of J.K. Rowling. I am merely borrowing her characters for my own and your amusement during what will no doubt be a long wait for Book 6. I am not benefitting monetarily for this story, my only rewards are your reviews._

_Author's Note: Thank you to my readers for your incredible patience. I am sure you understand that sometimes other things have to get in the way of writing (believe me if I could do this for a living, I would love to, but unfortunately I have to work 50 hour weeks), but I always try to keep you in mind and finish these chapters as quickly as I am able. At least you'll know that you haven't been waiting in vain - this is the longest chapter yet at 18 single-spaced pages. Thanks also go to my Sugar Quill beta-reader, Ozma, and to Anne for her assistance and advice. As a brief warning to those unaware at this point - this is a Ron/Hermione and Harry/Ginny fic but both relationships will develop at a realistic level and may surprise you along the way._

* * *

**Chapter 15: Owl Delivery**   
  
Harry awoke with his hand clutched to his scar. The pain was dull now but it throbbed slightly and he knew that it must have been burning for some time. He felt exhausted from a night of broken sleep, as though he had been awake the whole time. 

Vague images and sounds lingered in his mind - green and red flashes of light and screaming. Horrible screams that still resonated clearly, echoing in his dreams. They were screams of fear, grief, and suffering. 

Added to this was another feeling, but one that was not his own. He recognized that nauseating sensation in the pit of his stomach and the dull ache at his temples all too well. Voldemort was angry and disappointed. Something hadn't occurred as he had hoped. 

Harry knew that he wasn't supposed to be having these feelings and visions. And he knew that he ought to tell Dumbledore or someone about his dreams, but what could they do about it anyway? How could some vague sensations and images possibly make any difference now? What was done was done and people were probably dead. There was nothing he or anyone else could do. No one could bring the dead back to life. No matter how young the dead were or how innocent or how much they were needed in this world. 

_Don't go there, Potter. Don't think of that. Mustn't think of that. Anything but that. He's dead and there's nothing you can do. Nothing. It's better to forget…but I can't forget_. 

He tried to empty his mind from dismal reminders of Sirius. If he could only know what had happened to him or understand why Sirius would have been taken from him so soon, he felt that he might be able to achieve some peace. 

Pulling the blanket up higher, he resolved to make up some of the sleep he had lost. But sleep wouldn't come. And the chink of light coming through the thin split between the bed curtains was growing steadily brighter, while the noise beyond gradually changed from Neville's soft snoring to the shrill ring of Dean's alarm clock, followed closely by Ron's yawning. 

As he listened, Harry remained silent and still. Finally, he heard the sounds he had been waiting for - numerous feet shuffling out of their dormitory and the click of the door as it closed behind them. Once they were gone, Harry still made no move to open his bed curtains. Completely exhausted, he had every intention of remaining exactly where he was for at least another hour. He certainly wasn't in any mood to go down to breakfast and face anyone at the moment. 

Just as Harry was ready to drift back to sleep, he heard Ron's distinctive footfall approaching. He wasn't alone after all. 

"Harry?" Ron asked tentatively. 

Harry didn't have to answer. He could just lie there and pretend he was asleep. Then Ron would go away and he could be left to his solitude. 

But that wasn't to be. 

"Harry?" Ron repeated, pulling aside the bed curtains to find Harry with his eyes closed and his back turned to him. "I know you're awake, Harry. Come on, you'll be late for breakfast and McGonagall's passing out the schedules today." 

Harry sighed but did not move. "You go ahead. I'll come down shortly." 

"Fine, but hurry up. We should really start recruiting for the Quidditch tryouts on Friday, so we don't get as poor a showing as last year's." 

The door clicked and he was alone at last. He closed his eyes, but something Ron had said was disturbing him. He had forgotten something…something about Quidditch, but he couldn't think what it was. 

Quidditch tryouts…Ginny was planning to try out for one of the Chaser positions. He shot up with a jolt when he remembered. The broom! He had asked the clerk at Quality Quidditch Supplies to deliver Ginny's broom that very morning! 

Cursing himself for forgetting, he jumped out of bed. Without even bothering to change the clothes that he'd been wearing since the day before, he ran out of the room, skipping the stairs two at a time and hurtling through the empty common room. He swung open the Fat Lady's portrait hastily, causing her to screech in indignation. 

"NO RUNNING IN THE CORRIDORS!" she shouted after him. 

Other portraits echoed her sentiments as he continued to run at top speed. Just as he reached the entrance hall, he heard cackling. Still running, he looked up to see Peeves bobbing around the ceiling, holding something behind his back. Only too late did Harry realize what this meant. 

"Wee Potter's in a hurry. If he doesn't slow down, he might break his neck," the poltergeist cackled as he pulled out a huge bucket. Suddenly, water poured down onto the floor in front of the oak doors that led into the Great Hall. 

Harry tried to skid to a halt in front of the giant puddle, but instead managed to slide directly into it and fell flat onto his backside. Rising to his feet, soaking wet, he cursed as the poltergeist floated away, cackling uncontrollably as he went. 

Entering the Great Hall, Harry found the dining tables full and he was obviously the last to arrive. He hadn't wanted to attract attention, but he certainly had it now. 

Striding the length of the hall, he tried to ignore the snickering coming from either side. Fortunately, most of the students seemed more interested in their breakfasts than in him. His wet trainers squeaked on the shiny stone floor, making him wince as the sound echoed through the hall. Worse, he realized that he was leaving behind a trail of wet footprints that would almost certainly earn him a detention from Filch, who at this very moment was glaring at him from across the room. 

"What happened to you?" asked Ron, gaping at the state of Harry's robes when he finally reached them. 

"Peeves." 

Ron gave him an understanding nod. 

"Oh for heaven's sake," Hermione said impatiently. "_Siccaro_!" she called, aiming her wand at Harry. 

For a brief moment, it felt as though a warm breeze passed straight through him. And when it was over, every bit of him was entirely dry. 

"Honestly," Hermione admonished, "if you had paid a bit more attention in Charms, you might have saved yourself a bit of embarrassment." 

"I didn't forget anything, I was just in a hurry," he lied. 

"Yeah, right," Hermione replied dismissively with a wave of her hand. "Well, we have more important things to discuss." 

Harry looked at her inquisitively. 

"Look at this," she said, holding up the front page of the _Daily Prophet_. 

"The post's already come?" Harry asked, startled. He glanced at the paper for only a fraction of a second before looking around frantically for Ginny. Sitting a few seats away, she was conversing with Dean, Seamus, Neville, and some of the fifth-years. With tremendous relief, he noticed that there was no broom in sight. 

"What?" Hermione asked, looking thoroughly confused. "Of course the post's come. What's wrong with you, Harry? Didn't you even read the headline?" 

"Wha-? Er…no, actually. What is it?" he said distractedly, still looking over at Ginny and the others. 

"Harry!" Hermione snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Pay attention. This is very serious!" she exclaimed as she thrust the paper in front of him. 

Reluctantly, Harry looked down at the newspaper. There was a huge photograph of Azkaban prison on the front page. One tower had crumbled and smoke dirifted up from it as debris tumbled over a rocky ledge and down to the sea. The headline spelled out in bold type, "_Attack at Azkaban_." 

"He tried to break in last night," explained Hermione. 

"Did the Death Eaters escape?" Harry asked, addressing the most immediate and pertinent question in his mind.  
  
"Two," Ron nodded, "before a second wave of Aurors arrived." 

"Only two? Then most of them are still in there," Harry rationalized, starting to feel a bit calmer. "We all knew it would happen eventually, it could have been worse." 

"It is worse, Harry," said Hermione seriously, her face reflecting the gravity of the situation. "People died last night. Innocent people. Four Aurors were murdered in the battle." 

Instantly Harry's eyes lit with concern. Was this what his dream had been about? Had he been witnessing these deaths? 

"Tonks? Kingsley?" he asked. 

"No," Hermione said quickly, "their names weren't listed among the dead or injured." 

"Who escaped?" 

"Macnair and Rodolphus Lestrange. As you might guess, Bellatrix was there." 

Simply hearing that name brought an acid taste to the back of his throat. He would never forgive Bellatrix Lestrange for what she had done. The very thought of that woman made his hands clench in anger. 

It took a moment for Harry to gain control of his anger and frustration. It all felt so unfair. Unfair that he had to be stuck here when something like that was going on. Unfair that he had to sit idly by while more Death Eaters escaped and the murderers of his parents and his godfather remained free to kill and torture others, free to utterly and completely destroy even more families. 

"I don't want to hear any more," said Harry decisively. 

"But…" 

"No, there's nothing we can do about it, is there? So, I don't want to know any more. Let Dumbledore deal with it," he said angrily. 

Hermione was just starting to protest when Professor McGonagall came along with the course schedules. He heard groans coming from the fifth-year students as they looked at their schedules and, no doubt, noticed the double Potions class with the Slytherins. 

As McGonagall passed him his course schedule, she leaned over and whispered, "Stop by my office before lunch today, Potter." 

Harry nodded his assent, wondering what exactly McGonagall wanted to discuss. She didn't look angry so that at least was in his favor. 

"Ugh," Ron complained, "look at our schedules. Every class is doubled and half of them are with the Slytherins." He sighed. "Well, at least I don't have to take Potions." 

"I do," said Harry miserably. "First class today _and_ it's with all three of the other houses." 

Hermione was carefully studying her rather long schedule. "It sounds like there weren't enough students accepted for more than one sixth-year Potions class," she commented. "After all, Professor Snape only accepts students who achieved O's on their O.W.L.s." 

"I'll bet you a Galleon that he took all the Slytherins," Ron said with certainty. 

Harry hated to admit it but he had to agree with Ron. The Potions class was sure to be chock full of Slytherins. He felt rather grateful that Hermione at least would share the class with him. 

They were still discussing their individual course schedules when a commotion at the other end of the Gryffindor table caught their attention. Looking up, Harry saw two large barn owls flying towards them and carrying a rather long and strangely-shaped parcel. The owls started to descend, flying so low that Harry and Ron had to duck to avoid being hit by the parcel as it flew past them. 

Harry smiled with satisfaction as the package landed with a thud in the middle of the table in front of Ginny, Dean, Seamus, and Neville. The four of them stood up and looked curiously at the package and then at each other. 

"Well…who's it for?" Seamus demanded. 

"Any of you expecting something?" asked Ginny. 

All three boys shook their heads and Ginny turned questioningly to the fifth-year girls sitting next to her and they shook their heads also. 

"Look, there's a note!" said Dean, reaching over to remove a small card that was affixed to the package. 

Dean opened the note, read it, and frowned before handing it to Ginny. 

With a look of confusion, Ginny took the note from Dean and read it aloud. 

"For…," she paused and her cheeks flushed pink, "Ginny Weasley…Gryffindor's newest Chaser." 

"It can't be," she spoke softly, staring in wonder at the oddly-shaped package. Gently, as if whatever was inside would bite her if she opened it too quickly, Ginny unwrapped the brown paper packaging. 

She let out a small gasp when she finally revealed the broom. 

"Merlin, I never dreamed…," she said in awe as she placed both hands tenderly on the broomstick and lifted it up to examine it. "I can't believe it. Do you know what this is? Do you have any idea?" she asked rhetorically. 

With a smirk, one of the girls answered sarcastically, "A broomstick?" 

"This isn't just a broomstick, it's a Nimbus Chaser!" Ginny beamed with pride and excitement as she examined the broom. 

"A Nimbus Chaser!" Ron nearly shouted. "Who on earth would give you a Nimbus Chaser?" he asked loud enough for the entire hall to hear. 

"Ron!" Hermione admonished. 

"Well, honestly, that's a really expensive broom. It's the newest model!" he said, clearly astonished. "Mum and Dad wouldn't spend that kind of money..." 

"I…I don't know who it's from," Ginny said slowly. "It doesn't say on the note. It's strange, someone knew exactly what I wanted. I was admiring it in Diagon Alley just a little while ago when Dean and I were…." She paused and turned and looked at Dean inquisitively. "Wait…Dean, you didn't….did you?" she asked. 

"What? Me?" Dean sputtered, nearly choking on his breakfast. "Give you the broom? Er…no, Ginny," he said, shaking his head repeatedly. 

Ginny frowned and looked puzzled. "Well then who-?" 

She was interrupted by Professor McGonagall, whose attention must have been drawn by all of the activity surrounding the arrival of the broom. 

"Miss Weasley, you will follow me, please," said McGonagall, looking sternly at Ginny over her spectacles. "And bring your things with you." Harry noticed that her eyes rested quite specifically on the broom. 

Ginny cast an apprehensive look to those around her and, reluctantly, she followed McGonagall out of the Great Hall, broom in hand. 

"What do you s'pose that was about?" Ron asked, watching as his sister disappeared out of sight. 

"I don't know, but it doesn't look good," Harry said glumly. 

Ron spent the rest of breakfast contemplating who had given Ginny the broom. Harry found it quite amusing to make encouraging remarks as Ron's speculations progressed from possible sources like Fred and George to improbable ones like Dumbledore and Ginny's ex, Michael Corner. Thankfully, Ron never even seemed to consider that the broom was from Harry, although Hermione gave Harry somewhat unsettling looks of appraisal. 

It was quite obvious that Ron was a bit jealous of his sister's gift. And reminders from Hermione that Ginny had never had a broom of her own before, unlike Ron and his brothers, didn't seem to help. Harry actually started to feel guilty about giving Ginny a broom better than Ron's. But the guilt quickly disappeared when it came time for their first class and Ron announced that he had the morning off because he didn't have to take Potions. It was Harry's turn to be jealous now that Ron didn't have to endure two hours with Snape three days a week. 

As always, the thought of his first Potions class filled him with dread.

Sharing that class with Hermione just wasn't the same as sharing it with Ron, who hated Snape with equal passion. Hermione was great to have around if you needed help, but she would never voice her opinions about the class and the professor the way Harry and Ron would when they were together. 

Hermione and Harry filtered into the Potions classroom and found two seats at the back of the room. As Ron had predicted, the class was filled with mostly Slytherins, although Crabbe and Goyle were noticeably absent. No doubt they had both received D's (or maybe even T's) on their O.W.L.s and even for Slytherins, Snape probably couldn't justify allowing such poor students into his advanced class. 

Of course, Draco Malfoy sat in the same seat he had every year. Harry was pleased to note that Malfoy looked remarkably small and insignificant without his two henchmen to back him up. Pansy Parkinson was sitting beside him now and fawning for his attention with no success. Draco appeared to be sulking, he looked rather miserable actually. Perhaps news of his father's failed escape had not been well received. 

"Bad day, Malfoy?" Harry asked coolly as he passed. 

Draco looked startled as he glanced up at Harry. "Potter! What are you doing here?" he sneered. 

"If you don't know what class this is, perhaps you don't belong in Advanced Potions," Harry replied calmly. 

"You know what I meant, Potter," Draco snarled. "You're horrible at Potions. You took remedial lessons last year. Professor Snape would never allow you into this class!" 

Hermione appeared at his side. "Every student in this class is entitled to be here, Malfoy. Now if you want to push this further, I won't hesitate to remove points from Slytherin." 

Draco scowled but as he looked up, the frown disappeared and was replaced with an evil grin. 

Hermione looked perplexed. "I'm serious, Malfoy. If you don't stop, I'll-" 

"GRANGER!" 

Hermione winced and Harry turned around to see Snape standing directly behind them. 

"I believe it is solely at _my _discretion to take points in my own classroom. Ten points from Gryffindor for your presumption. Now find your seats before I take another ten!" 

From there, Potions only seemed to get worse. Hermione was angry with him for starting the whole confrontation with Draco. There were only a handful of non-Slytherins in the class with Dean and Parvati as the only other Gryffindors. And Snape was just as loathsome and unreasonable as ever, treating Harry like an idiot whenever he had the chance. Today it was for the simple mistake of adding three Amaranth leaves instead of two to the healing potion they were making. 

It came as quite a relief when the class finally ended. Two hours was painful enough but the thought of two more years of Potions when he didn't have to take it was positively nauseating. Was becoming an Auror really worth two more years of Snape criticizing his every move while Malfoy watched with glee? 

When the bell rang, Harry gathered his belongings and made a mad dash for the door, leaving Hermione behind in his haste to leave. He headed straight for Gryffindor Tower, anticipating a quick lie down before lunch. Just as he reached the seventh floor, he remembered McGonagall's request at breakfast to meet him in her office. Harry groaned and returned the way he came, trudging back down six flights of stairs. 

Upon reaching her office, he heard voices inside and decided to wait in the corridor. A soft breeze from a nearby window blew the door slightly ajar. He was about to pull it closed again when he saw a flash of red hair inside and heard a familiar voice - Ginny was inside and she was speaking. 

"Professor, please, the Quidditch tryouts are this week and I need to practice." 

"Miss Weasley, we already discussed this earlier this morning. Considering that we don't know where the broom came from, it would not be prudent to trust the source. Especially after Hermione Granger's incident in Diagon Alley, we have to be very cautious. I have already contacted your parents and they fully agree with me." 

"But, Professor-" 

"No, Miss Weasley, and that is my final answer! You may have the broom back in a few weeks if it passes the tests. And don't come to badger me every day about this. Now, be off with you, I have other matters to attend to." 

He heard a small grunt of disapproval and the door swung open. Ginny was scowling when she left the office and didn't even notice Harry before she bumped into him. 

"Oh…Harry! I didn't see you," she said with surprise. "What are you doing here?" 

"McGonagall asked me to meet her. Are you all right, Ginny?" 

"Fine," she said stiffly, glaring at the office door. "It's just that McGonagall took my broom this morning. She thinks whoever sent it might have cursed it or something." Ginny rolled her eyes. "Anyway, she won't let me have it back until they've tested it thoroughly." 

"She did the same to me when Sirius sent the Firebolt. Don't worry, I'm sure you'll get it back soon," said Harry sympathetically. 

"Yeah, well, we'll see," Ginny replied, unconvinced. 

Harry looked at her nervously. He wanted to reassure her, but how could he without revealing that he sent the broom? 

"Harry Potter?" McGonagall called from inside 

"She must have heard you," Ginny said. "You'd better go in. Good luck!" she called as she started to walk away. 

He watched Ginny disappear round the corner, sighed, and opened the door. Professor McGonagall was busy with some paperwork so he took one of the seats in front of her and waited a few moments for her to finish writing. 

"Ah, Potter, I suppose you can probably guess why I called you here." 

Harry shook his head. 

"No? Well, I thought it would be obvious." She gave him a rare smile. "I want you to be Captain of the Gryffindor team this year!" 

He had so convinced himself that she would choose someone else for Captain that it actually came as quite a surprise. 

"What about Katie Bell?" he asked. 

"Miss Bell is an extraordinary Chaser, but you both have the same number of years on the team and you've had more successes on the Quidditch pitch. I know you work hard, Potter, and you've proven that you can be a great leader. Did you know that more students achieved O's in their Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.s last year than I've ever seen in all of my years at Hogwarts? And I'm quite certain that had nothing to do with Dolores Umbridge's teaching. I'm quite confident that you have the leadership skills required to make a wonderful Captain, Potter. Don't you want the position?" 

"Of course," he said quickly, "I just…," he paused, "I dunno, I guess I've come to expect disappointment." 

McGonagall stared fixedly at him through her square spectacles and her eyes slowly softened. "I'm sorry, Potter. I know you've had a rough time of it in the last few years." 

_Or my whole life_, Harry thought. 

"I confess that I also had hopes that this position might boost your spirits and prove a distraction from your troubles," she said delicately. 

He rather doubted that anything could distract him to that extent. But still it was something he had wanted, something to which he could look forward. "Thank you, Professor," Harry finally answered. "I'll do my best." 

"Good, because that's exactly what I expect of you. And please do something about those Beaters this year, Potter, and your Keeper needs more consistency. I'm not quite ready to give up that Cup yet," said McGonagall, gesturing to the bookcase where the Quidditch Cup stood prominently. 

McGonagall resumed her writing, indicating that the meeting was over. But she called out to him as he stood up. "Oh, Potter, I needn't remind you that this is a privilege. If your grades start to drop, I won't hesitate to replace you. Understand?" 

"Yes, Professor." 

He walked to the door and had his hand on the knob, but then turned around and faced McGonagall again. 

"Professor?" 

McGonagall looked up, peering inquisitively at him over her spectacles. 

"About Ginny's broom-" 

"Not you too, Potter. Listen, I've already told Miss Weasley that she will get the broom back when we are satisfied with its safety." 

"Wait, Professor, you don't understand-" 

"Of course I understand. Ginny Weasley is your friend and you want your team to do well and you think this broom will help. Wood was exactly the same when we were testing your broom. I want a winning team as much as you, Potter, but I won't jeopardize one of my students over a silly broomstick." She looked sternly at him before returning to the paperwork in front of her. 

"But I know who gave it to her," Harry said desperately. 

The quill in McGonagall's hand became still and she looked up in surprise. 

"What? Well, who is it then?" she demanded. 

Harry shifted uncomfortably.  
  
"Er…it's from …from a friend who doesn't want her to know where it came from." 

McGonagall's eyes narrowed as she appraised him. "That answer is far too vague. I need a name, Potter." 

"Fine," Harry conceded. He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a sigh of defeat. 

"I bought Ginny the broom," he confessed. 

"Oh...I see," McGonagall said slowly, her eyes widening. A soft smile rose to her lips as she looked back down at her desk and picked up her quill. "Very well then, Potter, Miss Weasley will have her broom back by the end of the day. And don't worry, I won't tell her what you've told me. I'm sure she'd much rather hear it from you when the time is right. You may go now." 

McGonagall's reaction to his confession troubled Harry. She seemed to suspect he'd bought the broom for some other reason than simple friendship and generosity. And why did she presume he would _ever_ reveal that he had purchased the broom? As far as he was concerned, Ginny would never find out if he could help it. He shuddered at the very thought if Ron ever knew. Leaving the office, he began to wonder whether Ginny's gift had been such a bright idea after all.   
  


After lunch and Herbology, it was time for their first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson with Professor Ramsey. Harry, Ron, and Hermione found that they were the last to arrive in a classroom full of only Gryffindors. All of the other students were already seated and conversing in fervent whispers. The girls were by far the loudest, giggling occasionally while snatches of their words drifted in the air, notably "so handsome," "absolutely gorgeous," and "do you think he's married?" 

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance and rolled their eyes simultaneously. Hermione made a motion to join the girls, but Ron nudged her towards a desk near the rest of the boys. Dean and Seamus looked up from their own conversation when they approached. 

"Hey, have you heard yet about the new professor?" asked Dean. 

"Heard what?" asked Harry, intrigued. 

"I sat behind Theodore Nott in Potions and overheard him talking to Zabini about Ramsey. It sounds like Ramsey's some kind of treasure hunter. He travels all over and goes to really dangerous places where no one else will go. Nott said his father paid a fortune for a magical amulet that Ramsey found in a cursed temple somewhere in the Aegean." 

"Wicked!" said Ron in awe. "So he's a curse-breaker then? My brother Bill's a curse-breaker for Gringott's in Egypt. Maybe he knows Ramsey." 

"Nah, I doubt it. It sounds like Ramsey tries to keep a low profile and moves around a lot. And he isn't a curse-breaker," said Dean, "they called him something else - a...mavantrix or something like that. I've never heard of it." 

Hermione's eyes lit up suddenly. "Do you mean a magiventrus?" she asked. 

"Yeah, that's it." 

Hermione squealed with delight, surprising them all. Harry looked to Ron for an explanation but Ron shrugged and mouthed the word "mental" while his eyes darted to Hermione. 

"A magiventrus here at Hogwarts!" said Hermione, looking as happy as if she had just discovered a lost chapter of _Hogwarts, A History_. "They're so rare. I don't believe it. _And_ he's our teacher. Oh, it's going to be so exciting!" 

"What are you on about?" Ron asked, looking at Hermione as if she had two heads. 

"He's a magiventrus, Ron! Don't you know what that means?" Hermione asked in disbelief. 

Harry and Ron responded with blank stares. 

"Honestly," Hermione said with disgust, "Have none of you paid even the slightest attention in History of Magic?" 

Harry glanced at the other boys who all wore humbled expressions but did not reply. 

"Oh, fine then," said Hermione, exasperated, "but you really ought to know this by now. A magiventrus is someone who studies the magical spells and objects of ancient or lost civilizations. Most of our magical knowledge comes from their discoveries. They're something like a curse-breaker or a Muggle archaeologist, except they're looking for magical artifacts and texts." 

Harry and Ron edged slightly closer, listening with greater interest.  
  
Hermione continued, "The profession is really rare because no one teaches it anymore and most ancient magical objects have either already been unearthed or are surrounded by so many curses and enchantments that they're impossible to reach." 

"Difficult perhaps, but nothing's impossible," a voice called behind them. 

Hermione flushed a brilliant pink as she spun around and saw Professor Ramsey standing nearby. 

"Miss Granger, isn't it?" Ramsey continued, smiling warmly at her. "It's a pleasure to meet you." 

Hermione nodded meekly. 

"Hello, everyone," Ramsey said, addressing the entire class, "I hope you'll pardon my late arrival for our first class. At least it seems that we can skip over an introduction since so many of you seem to know quite a bit more about me already than I would have expected." His eyes darted to Hermione, who sank lower into her chair. "Knowing the way word travels around Hogwarts, I'm sure all of you will learn much more about me than even I know very shortly." 

The class responded with soft laughter. Harry glanced at Hermione, who was looking down at her desk with her hand to her forehead. She was still clearly quite embarrassed. 

"First," Ramsey continued, "I would like to congratulate you all for your extraordinary accomplishments on the O.W.L.s. I am told that every student in this class passed the Defense exam with flying colors, achieving the highest average for one subject in the school's history. Naturally, I will be expecting quite a bit from such an extraordinary class. 

"In times such as these, Defense Against the Dark Arts is not just vital to your magical education but to your survival. Up to this point, you have learned the basics about some of the creatures and spells you might encounter. But knowledge alone won't save you if you are unfortunate enough to encounter the Dark Lord or his followers. By the end of the year, it is my hope that you will all be able to defend yourselves if a real situation arises." 

Harry found that his attitude towards the new professor was quickly shifting. Perhaps Ramsey wasn't just another Lockhart, maybe he really did know his subject. Everything Ramsey was saying echoed Harry's thoughts on the matter perfectly. Suddenly, he felt a great deal more respect for Ramsey than he had the night before. 

Ramsey continued, "I would like to begin this year by practicing some of the more basic spells you would need against unfriendly wizards - the Disarming Charm and the Shield Charm. I presume you're all familiar with _Expelliarmus_ and _Protego_, yes?" 

The class nodded their affirmations. 

"Wonderful! I'd like you each to find a partner to practice with and take turns using each of the spells, so that I can see your progress." 

The class paired off and took pillows to cushion their falls from the Disarming Charm. Harry and Ron teamed up, leaving Hermione to pair up with Neville. It became clear very quickly that everyone in the class was able to effectively produce each of the Charms, of course this was only natural after all of their practice last year in the D.A.. Few people were being disarmed because they were all using the Shield Charm so effectively. It didn't take long for some of the students to start showing signs of boredom. 

"The way he was talking, I thought we might actually learn something," Ron complained to Harry. "But this is pointless. I mean, we've all known these spells for ages. I could do _Expelliarmus_ with my eyes closed." 

"Is that so, Mr. Weasley?" Naturally, Professor Ramsey had approached them at that very moment. "Perhaps you would care to demonstrate for the class, then?" Ramsey said very casually, as though he was trying to cover up the quiet smirk hiding barely visible in his smile. 

"All right," Ron replied nervously. He walked to the front of the classroom and motioned for Harry to join him. 

As Harry started to walk up to the front, Ramsey stopped him. 

"No, Mr. Weasley will demonstrate with me," Ramsey said. 

Ron's eyes opened wide and he looked even more nervous as Ramsey stood across from him with his wand drawn. 

"All right, Mr. Weasley, let's see your _Expelliarmus_. Go ahead, eyes closed." 

Ron shot another nervous glance at Harry before doing as he was ordered. 

"_Expelli_-" 

The second he closed his eyes, Ron was hit flat in the face with one of the pillows. The entire class reacted with raucous laughter. 

Ron opened his eyes and Professor Ramsey lowered his wand. 

"Lesson one:" Ramsey said, addressing the class, "Never close your eyes in a duel." 

Ramsey flicked his wand and another pillow flew through the air directly towards Lavender Brown, who had turned around and was whispering something to Parvati. The pillow hit Lavender in the back of the head, initiating another round of laughter. 

"Lesson two: Never turn your back on your opponent." 

"That's not fair," Lavender protested. "I wasn't even trying." 

Ignoring her, Ramsey continued, "And most importantly, Lesson Three: _Never_ assume that your opponent will play fairly. 

"You see, knowing and being able to use these spells is fairly simple, but add the pressures of a real-life confrontation and the situation is entirely different. Even simple spells become quite difficult when there are no rules, when it is only you and your opponent and your very life depends on your actions in that one moment. You have to be on alert, to expect anything at any time. Your senses have to be tuned to your opponent and not distracted by your surroundings. 

"For our next exercise, I would like you all to split up into two teams, five on each since we have ten students. This exercise should add stress and distractions to the situation you've just faced because there will now be up to five wands pointed at you at any one time. This will be something like a game - the first team to recover all of the wands of the other team wins. Success will require not only your concentration but teamwork as well. If you're faced with unfriendly wizards, it is more likely that you will have to deal with several at once rather than one-on-one." 

The lesson proved to be quite difficult for many of the students. Initially, Harry's team won too quickly because he already had so much experience using those spells in stressful situations. It didn't take long for Ramsey to decide to have Harry act alone as a third team in order to provide everyone with a challenge. 

Everyone seemed quite pleased at their progress by the end of the class. The game format was exhilarating and tiring at the same time. By the end, they were all exhausted but thrilled. Many remarked that it was the most fun they'd ever had in a class (though Harry disagreed because of his loyalty to Lupin). 

"Great work, everyone!" Ramsey said at the end of class. "Some of you still need a bit more practice, but you're progressing very well. In the next class, we'll go a step further and add some new challenges. For homework, I'd like you each to think carefully about what could happen if you were ever faced with a dark wizard in reality and create a list of ten different scenarios and the defensive maneuvers you could use in each case. And each defensive maneuver should be different, so I don't want to see _Protego_ listed for every scenario. Now I imagine you're all starving after your hard work, so you're all free to go down to dinner." 

The class filed out with Harry, Ron, and Hermione trailing at the end of the queue. Before they could leave, Professor Ramsey asked Harry to stay behind and Harry urged Ron and Hermione to go ahead to the Great Hall. 

Once they were alone, Ramsey shut the door and beckoned Harry to come to his desk. 

"Harry, I'd like to begin your Occlumency lessons this week. I was thinking every Tuesday and Thursday evening at eight o'clock if that's all right with you. I understand that you met with Snape under the pretense of remedial Potions lessons, but I don't think anyone would believe that you need extra lessons in Defense Against the Dark Arts, so I don't want to do the lessons here or in my office. Professor Dumbledore mentioned that you led a defense group last year in a secret room on the seventh floor. That seems like an ideal location considering its proximity to Gryffindor. So I'll meet you there tomorrow at eight, all right?" 

"Yes, Professor. You know how to get into the Room of Requirement?" 

"No, is there a trick to it? Well then come by my office at eight and we'll go up together." 

Harry nodded in agreement and left to join Ron and Hermione. 

At dinner, the entire school was buzzing about the new professor. Harry was just grateful that the attention wasn't focused on him for once. He was somewhat surprised that Ron and Hermione still hadn't pestered him about the Sorting Hat's song, but knew better than to mention anything. 

When they were studying in the Gryffindor Common Room an hour later, Harry suddenly grew suspicious again when Ron and Hermione started whispering conspiratorially when they thought he wasn't looking. But perhaps he was just fooling himself, he was too paranoid that everyone was always talking about him. 

"Harry?" Ron asked. 

_Here it comes_, Harry thought. "Hmm?" he replied, not looking up from his book. 

"Hermione and I were thinking about visiting Hagrid tomorrow, can you come?" 

"Yes!" he replied immediately, feeling so relieved that Ron hadn't asked the other question. "Wait, I have to be somewhere at eight tomorrow night." He lowered his voice. "Occlumency lesson," he whispered to them. "Can we go after dinner?" 

Ron and Hermione looked at each other. 

"Sure," Hermione nodded, "that should give us enough time." 

Harry smiled, feeling much happier than he had before. 

"Hey, Harry, congratulations!" said Katie Bell, who had just stopped by their table. 

"Thanks," said Harry, "but I was sure you were going to be Captain." 

Katie smiled and shook her head. "Nah, I knew McGonagall would give you the job. Even if she had offered me the position, I wasn't going to accept it. You deserve it." 

"I could still use your help, Katie," Harry said, "especially with the tryouts." 

"I'll be around if you need me, Potter. Just promise me you won't become a taskmaster like Wood or Angelina." 

"I hope not," Harry laughed. 

After Katie left, Harry was reminded of just how intensely he had missed Quidditch. He hadn't had the chance to fly since Umbridge had confiscated his broom the previous year after the first match. He asked Ron to come out and practice with him, but Ron turned him down after Hermione reminded him that they had a prefect meeting that evening. So Harry was quite alone when he marched off to the Quidditch pitch with broom in hand, and he was perfectly happy to be that way. 

The desire to fly was so strong that he took off before he'd even reached the pitch. The sun was setting and it was a pleasantly warm evening with only a slight breeze - perfect weather for flying. He flew around the castle in lazy circles, enjoying the view before he decided to give his broom a real workout. As he flew high over the lake, he went into a straight dive pulling up just in time so that he was mere inches away from the water's surface. Climbing higher, he put on a burst of speed and accelerated faster and faster towards the Quidditch pitch. 

As he came closer, something caught his eye high up in the sky over the pitch. It was too large to be a bird, but too small to be a thestral. He landed in the middle of the pitch and dismounted, staring up at the object. Suddenly, the thing was falling, faster than gravity it seemed. Then he heard a scream and the thing in the sky became a blur of red hurtling towards him at an alarming rate. His heart was pounding in his chest, it wasn't some creature - it was Ginny. He reached for his wand, only to find that he had left it behind in Gryffindor Tower. He mounted his broom hoping to catch her midfall, but he knew he was already too late, she was falling too quickly. Just as he was sure he was about to see her small body shatter as it hit the ground, she swerved up and let out a shout of triumph before circling around the pitch and landing gracefully beside him. Ginny had just performed a perfect Wronski Feint, better than any he had ever seen, including Krum's performance at the Quidditch World Cup. 

"Did you see that?" she asked, beaming from ear to ear. "I've never been able to do anything like that before. It was amazing!" 

Harry gaped at her. His heart was still struggling to return to a normal pace. "I…I guess you got your broom back then," he stammered finally. 

"Yeah, McGonagall returned it this afternoon. I've just been testing it out. It's fantastic! Flies like a dream. I don't think the tryouts will be a problem, do you?" 

"Tryouts? After that display? You don't need to try out. I'm the Captain and, as far as I'm concerned, you're definitely on the team." 

"Aw, that's really sweet of you, Harry," Ginny said. She hugged him and pecked him on the cheek, leaving a tingling sensation where her lips had touched. "But I'll try out anyway. It's only fair to the other prospects." 

"Well, I'd better head back now. Lots of homework already," she said casually as she walked away. After only a few steps, she turned around and called back, "Oh...by the way, Harry," she smirked, "thanks for the broom. I owe you." She winked at him and continued walking back towards the castle, her figure silhouetted by the brilliant red of the setting sun. At the edge of the pitch, she yelled back, "Don't worry, I won't tell Ron!" 

Ginny had dumbfounded Harry twice in the span of a few minutes. He watched her retreating figure and remained there still and silent until long after she had disappeared. Daylight had faded into night by the time he finally returned to the castle.  
  
  


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_Author's Note:   
Please review and while you're doing so, if you're interested in receiving an email when I update, please leave your email address. I'm trying to assemble a group email list._  
  



	16. Ch 16: Old Acquaintances

**Harry Potter and the Forbidden Passage **

by Cendrillon

_Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to the creative mind of J.K. Rowling. I am merely borrowing her characters for my own and your amusement during the wait for Book 6. I am not benefitting monetarily for this story, my only rewards are your reviews._

_Author's Note: Thanks to my beta-reader Ozma, Delleve, and Birgit for their input. _

* * *

**Chapter 16: Old Acquaintances**

Tuesday dawned cold and dismal with raindrops the size of Galleons pelting the window panes while distant thunder rumbled in the background. The noise made sleeping all but impossible. So it was hardly surprising that all of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw could be found assembling in the Great Hall much earlier than usual that morning. The Hufflepuffs and Slytherins continued to sleep soundly in their beds, the pounding storm muffled by their underground dormitories.

The storm however was not the reason why Harry awakened long before the break of dawn. Nor had he been troubled by nightmares, as was so common of late. On the contrary, for the first time in months, there hadn't been any nightmares. Nevertheless, he had arisen long before his roommates, feeling so anxious and tense that sleep was a lost cause. It was the same feeling he had before a big Quidditch match or before each of the Triwizard tasks - a sense of mingled dread and anticipation that left him slightly nauseous.

This time, however, the nausea had less to do with some_thing_ as much as it did with some_one_. Ginny's revelation the previous night had come quite unexpected. He still couldn't understand how she knew that the broom was from him and he laid awake in bed pondering the question.

Part of him was still afraid of what might happen if Ron ever found out. He was somewhat relieved to find Ron still sleeping soundly in the next bed when he awoke. But then another much more likely and equally unwelcome possibility occurred to him - what if Ginny had told Hermione? She had promised she wouldn't tell Ron but had said nothing about Hermione. And wasn't Hermione the one who had disapproved of him giving his Triwizard winnings to Fred and George? And if Hermione knew, how long would it be before Ron knew?

By the time they went down to breakfast, these thoughts were still plaguing him. He found himself so distracted that he walked straight into someone when he entered the Great Hall.

"Sorry," he said quickly. Looking up, he was horrified to find that the person he was apologizing to was Cho Chang.

"Oh, Harry, it's you," Cho said as she turned around to face him. She and Marietta (whose cursed spots from the previous year had finally faded into a faint scar) were standing to the side of the doors when Harry, Ron, and Hermione had entered.

"Cho," he said, startled.

"We'll save a seat for you, Harry," Hermione said, excusing herself and dragging Ron with her. Marietta followed shortly thereafter, leaving Harry and Cho alone.

Cho looked a bit uncomfortable, but nowhere near as awkward as Harry felt at that moment.

"How are you, Harry? I heard that you're Captain of the Gryffindor team this year."

He nodded.

"That's great, you really deserve it." She sounded truly sincere and yet a bit distant.

"Thanks," he said, not quite sure what to say to her. "Erm...what about you? How's the Ravenclaw team this year?"

Cho blushed scarlet and looked away. "Well," she said slowly, "I'm not sure actually. I...I've decided not to join the team this year."

Harry raised his brows inquisitively.

"You know," she said quickly, "it's my last year and with all of the work for the N.E.W.T.s, I thought that Quidditch practices might be a bit too much extra."

"Oh...I see," Harry said slowly, trying to sound sympathetic to her rationalization. But the truth was he didn't "see" at all. It was quite obvious that she was quitting for other reasons and he had the distinct feeling that it had more to do with a lack of confidence rather than her academic workload. After all, she had been having trouble the previous year. She had even thrown her broom away after losing the Snitch to Ginny, but he hadn't really thought that she would quit completely.

She looked around nervously. "Well, I suppose Marietta is probably waiting for me, I should go. I'll see you around then, Harry."

"See you," Harry replied, watching curiously as Cho walked away and joined the Ravenclaw table, sitting next to Michael Corner. As he looked at them, he supposed he ought to feel a bit jealous, but found oddly that he didn't care.

When he turned to the Gryffindor table, he found Ginny looking in his direction and his eyes met hers for a fraction of a second before she looked away, turning to speak to Neville.

As breakfast continued, Harry quickly found that he couldn't look at Ginny without the blood rushing to his face. He was sure that he kept turning an unsightly shade of pink. Fortunately, Ron seemed to think that his strange behavior had something to do with his encounter with Cho and kept telling him that they were better off apart. Harry nodded as though he were listening while he fixated on the problem with Ginny.

He still couldn't figure out how she knew that he'd sent the broom. At first, he was certain that McGonagall must have said something when she returned the broom to Ginny. But McGonagall had said that she wouldn't tell her. Could Ginny simply have guessed that he'd given her the broom? But if it was only a guess, then why had Ginny sounded so certain?

Maybe, he thought, maybe she was testing him. Maybe she had just thanked him for the broom to test his reaction. Well, if that was the case, he could just play dumb and act like he didn't know anything about it. He hadn't confirmed it after all. Well, now that he had his wits about him, he could simply deny it. That would solve everything. He'd just have to find the right place and time to talk to her. He smiled, feeling quite relieved and pleased with his solution.

And his mood improved considerably when the post owls arrived. Two brown owls dropped off letters for Hermione just as Hedwig landed in front of Harry. She held out her leg so that he could remove the letter and then flew off after swallowing whole the piece of bacon he had offered her. Turning over the envelope, he immediately recognized the neat script - it was a reply from Remus.

_  
Harry,_

_I must admit that I had not expected to hear from you quite so soon, but your letter was a very welcome surprise. It makes me very pleased that you would confide in me and I hope that you will continue to do so in future. Please remember that I will always be here if you ever have need of me._

_How are you feeling? I hope you're not having any more pains in your scar or any visions for that matter. You will tell Dumbledore if you do, won't you? I can't stress to you enough how important it is for you to communicate to him anything of that nature._

_I imagine you've already heard about the Azkaban breakout. The Ministry has tripled the number of guards at the prison, but that means that they're taking away forces from other locations so an alternative is being sought. Arthur and Kingsley tell us that the Minister is starting to gather support for reinstating the death penalty. The first trials are set for November, so it seems likely that Voldemort will make another attempt before then._

_Regarding your note, I can understand why you're upset about the Sorting Hat. It actually was brought up at the Order meeting last night, but Dumbledore assures us that there was nothing revealed in the song that could help Voldemort. And as for your fellow students, well I'm quite certain they will have forgotten it before long, if they haven't already. I can almost guarantee that you will remember it far longer than they will. _

_What concerns me more is your new Defense instructor, particularly since he's teaching you Occlumency as well. Normally I would trust Dumbledore implicitly, but in this case, if this Professor Ramsey is who I think he is, well, I'm not sure that Dumbledore knows everything. I knew Edgar Ramsey from my Hogwarts days. He was in Ravenclaw, a year ahead of me._ _Very bright student, among the top of his class - Head Boy in fact as I recall. Butwell, let's just say that we didn't run in the same circles. Your father was none too fond of Ramsey, nor was Ramsey very friendly with James for that matter. There is more to my concern but this is neither the place nor the time to explain it. Perhaps one day I will tell you the whole story, Harry, but for now I think it may be better not to disturb you with old tales that may have little bearing on the current situation. Don't worry needlessly, I'm only telling you this now because I want you to be cautious, just as I would expect you to be with anyone. That being said, I feel quite certain that Ramsey will make a very competent Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, he certainly has the experience for the job, and I hope that you will enjoy his classes. At the very least, I'm sure he will be a major improvement compared to last year._

_Let me know if you have any problems and please keep in touch. Study hard, but don't forget to have a little fun. Say hello to Ron, Hermione, and Ginny for me._

_Take care,_

_Moony_

Well, this was certainly interesting news. He would have to remind himself to write back to Lupin and ask for the details, but knowing Lupin, he probably would say no more than he already had. Still, it was quite intriguing that Ramsey had known his father. And something that Lupin had mentioned about Ramsey had reminded Harry of something but he couldn't quite remember what it was. He tucked the letter into his pocket, deciding to reread it later when he would have more privacy.

Harry looked up to find Ron watching him expectantly.

"Lupin," Harry said simply, as though that would explain everything. For some reason, he didn't want to share this letter quite yet.

Ron gave him a look as if to say, "And?"

But Harry merely ignored him and turned to Hermione, who was stowing a very thick envelope into her book bag.

Ron must have noticed too, because he turned to her and asked, "Wuz zat?" with a mouthful of food as he peered over her shoulder, his eyes fixed on the envelope.

"Excuse me?" she replied, staring disapprovingly at Ron.

Ron chewed a few times and swallowed. "What's that?" he repeated. "That letter."

"It's from my parents," she said as she opened the other envelope, which she still held in her hand while at the same time further concealing the contents of her bag..

"Not that one," Ron said, pouring himself another glass of pumpkin juice, "the one you just put in your bag."

Hermione tensed up slightly and was not quick to respond. When she did, her voice sounded strained. "Not that it's any of your business, but it's a letter from Viktor."

At those words, Ron's face turned a sickly shade and Harry felt like moving for fear that all of the food Ron had just gorged himself on would reappear.

The food stayed where it was, but Ron did explode. "You're still writing to that-"

"Don't start," Hermione threatened, looking up to glare at him. She shook her head in disappointment. "I knew I shouldn't tell you. I knew you wouldn't understand, but I had hoped you would have matured even the tiniest morsel."

Ron sputtered in indignation, but no intelligible words came out.

Hermione continued her tirade. "Honestly, what do you have against Viktor Krum, anyways? Why should it matter to you if we're friends?"

Hermione sighed in frustration and stood up. "Never mind, I'm leaving to read my letter in peace. Harry, I'll be in the library if you need me." She stalked off angrily, tossing her book bag roughly over her shoulder as she left.

Watching her leave, Ron looked rather flustered. "Well, there she goes again. What's with women anyway? Who do they fly off the handle like that for no reason? I mean, Ginny's like that too. You know she got that broom back from McGonagall yesterday, and I asked her if she found out who it was from and she just lashed out at me and stomped off like I'd done something wrong. I'm her brother for Merlin's sake. Why won't she just tell me?"

To be truthful, Harry had found the whole scene between his friends rather amusing until Ron had mentioned Ginny. As soon as he'd brought up the broom, Harry's eyes widened and anything that he had been about to say to Ron completely slipped from his head. Struggling to maintain his composure, he finally shrugged in response.

Fortunately, Ron seemed preoccupied and didn't notice that Harry's facial coloring had blanched a few shades lighter than normal. "I just don't understand," Ron continued, shaking his head, "what Hermione sees in that...that..."

"Grumpy git?" Harry supplied, recalling what Ron had labeled Krum the prior year.

"Precisely," Ron nodded with satisfaction.

For the sake of peace between his best friends, Harry dared to tread in dangerous waters. "You know, I don't really think there's anything going on between them," he said cautiously.

Ron furrowed his brows and looked at Harry as if he had just betrayed him. "Of course there isn't, he's in bloody Bulgaria."

"I mean I don't think she likes him in that way. They're just friends, at least in her opinion anyway, and she's not going to stop writing to him just because you don't like him," he said honestly.

Ron folded his arms, assuming a stubborn posture that clearly expressed his displeasure with the conversation. "But you and I both know that _he_ has other intentions and...and...he's just not right for her."

It took some effort for Harry to restrain himself from asking, "Well, who is right then?"

"I mean," Ron continued, "Krum went to Durmstrang. He probably knows all about the Dark Arts. He could be in league with You-Know-Who for all we know."

Harry stared at Ron earnestly. "You don't really believe that," he said calmly. "Besides, if you think he's a Death Eater, why do you still have his autograph? I saw you pack it in your trunk before we left. Come on, admit it - you don't think he's so bad."

"Well...maybe not," Ron admitted, "but that still doesn't make him right for her. I mean he's older, and he's always scowling and...well, Hermione doesn't have any brothers, so it's our job to protect her from blokes like him, right?"

In fact, Harry did not want to involve himself at all in these matters with Hermione. This conversation with Ron already seemed far too much like meddling for his liking, but he would not tell Ron this.

"Like you said, he's in Bulgaria. There's not much that Krum can do from there. And I think Hermione can take care of herself on this one."

At first, Ron looked skeptical but then the angry, betrayed look slumped into one of resignation. He looked thoughtful as he pushed around the contents of his plate with his fork. After a minute of silence, Ron mumbled something very quietly - just a few short words that Hermione would have skipped a class to hear and that Harry felt certain he would never hear again from Ron's lips.

"Maybe you're right," Ron had muttered in a voice barely above a whisper.

By the middle of his first Advanced Transfiguration class that morning, Harry began to wish that he had actually listened to Hermione and finished his summer readings before classes started. They had started Conjuring spells and McGonagall had instructed them to concentrate on gathering the particles in the air to combine and shape the object in question - a cotton ball for the introductory lesson. The only problem was that Harry couldn't concentrate enough to create more than a wispy cloud by the end of class. Even Neville, whom McGonagall had only accepted into her N.E.W.T. level class on a trial basis, had been successful after only a few attempts.. Hermione, naturally, was able to complete the spell properly on her first attempt. By the end of class, she had moved on to firmer objects.

Harry was far too distracted to concentrate on his classwork and had just as much trouble in Charms that afternoon. Professor Flitwick explained that they would be developing original Charms that year and began a discussion to generate ideas. Even though the class should have been very interesting and the discussion inspirational, Harry couldn't think of anything, his mind kept returning to Ginny. He needed to know how she had found out that the broom was from him. Fortunately, Charms was his last class of the day. Ron on the other hand, still had to attend Divination.

After much complaining (to which no one was sympathetic), Ron left for his Divination class, leaving Harry and Hermione behind. The problems Harry had been experiencing in Transfiguration and Charms had not escaped Hermione's notice and she insisted at once that they should practice the Conjuring spells in the library. He had hoped to use the time off to speak with Ginny, whom he had spent much of the day trying to track down. But Ginny proved to be rather evasive and he quickly gave in to Hermione and met her in the library.

He found her sitting at their usual table with a pile of Advanced Transfiguration textbooks lying next to her. But Hermione was not looking at any of these books. She was reading one of her letters with rapt attention and grinning widely.

"Good news?" Harry asked as he pulled out a chair and sat across from her.

Hermione looked up and smiled at him. "Actually, it is good news," she said as though she was keeping a secret that she couldn't wait to tell. "Viktor is returning."

Considering the conversation he had had earlier with Ron, this didn't seem like good news at all.

"He says that he wants to help us in the war against Voldemort."

"That's...um...that's great" Harry replied awkwardly. "I'm sure he'll be a lot of help. ErHermione, you might want to avoid telling Ron about this anytime soon."

"After the way he acted this morning, you think I'd tell him anything? But he'll have to know shortly," she said mysteriously.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Well, Viktor will be arriving in a couple of weeks and he's asked me to meet him at the Three Broomsticks on the first Hogsmeade weekend," Hermione said, blushing slightly.

The situation was going from bad to worse. There was going to be a full out war if Ron heard this.

"Listen, Hermione, don't tell Ron anything about this. I'll cover up for you on the Hogsmeade weekend. I'll schedule a team practice or something."

"All right, but I don't see why I should have to hide anything. It's not as though I'm doing anything wrong, I'm just meeting a friend. Ron should just grow up."

"You don't understand," Harry said impatiently. "Just trust me on this one, Hermione. His intentions are good."

"I find that rather hard to believe," she said quietly as she folded up the letter and put it away. She looked angry again but then her expression changed as though she'd just remembered something. "I'm glad he's not here anyway, because there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

There was a mischievous look in Hermione's eyes that made Harry quite nervous. What more could she possibly want to talk to him about that she couldn't say in front of Ron?

She pulled open her Transfiguration textbook and started scanning it and cross-referencing the text with her notes as though nothing had happened, as though he had just imagined the mischievous look in her eyes.

"That was a very nice thing you did for Ginny," she said casually, turning the page as she peered up at him.

All at once, Harry felt as though the chair he was sitting on had vanished into thin air and had been replaced by a stage with hot spotlights. "I...I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered.

"Of course you do," she said simply, not even bothering to look up from her book. "You bought Ginny that broom. It was a very kind gesture, Harry. I don't know why you would want to deny it, but don't bother because I know very well that it was from you. And even if I didn't, your reaction gave it all away just now."

Harry cursed and put his head in his hands. "How did you know?" he asked. "Did Ginny tell you?"

"Ginny didn't need to tell me. It was obvious. I'm not stupid, Harry, and neither is Ginny. I'd say we both figured it out at about the same time yesterday. It's quite a logical conclusion. First of all, you're one of the few people she knows with enough money to buy the broom and who knows that she wants to be a Chaser. And it's so typical of you to leave an anonymous note. Most people would want to take the credit for such a generous gift, but not you, Harry. I mean, you wouldn't even tell us about the money you gave to Fred and George, so you certainly wouldn't tell us about the broomstick for Ginny, would you?"

Now that she explained it like that, he really did feel the fool. Anyone could guess that he'd given her the broom. It didn't matter that he hadn't left a name. He cursed his stupidity for ever thinking that such a thing could be done without someone finding out.

"Does Ron know?" Harry asked uneasily.

Hermione snorted derisively. "Ron is so dense that he wouldn't see the truth if it slapped him in the face."

Harry knew that this comment was directed much more to her situation than to his. Hermione's anger with Ron was clearly still simmering just beneath the surface.

"No, Harry," Hermione continued, now somewhat calmer, "I think you can rest assured that Ron doesn't know. He never sees what's right in front of him," she said quietly. "Anyway, I don't know why you're so worried, I'm sure he'd be thrilled to find out that you gave her the broom instead of some secret admirer or something."

"Maybe," he mumbled, but Hermione showed no sign that she had heard him as she changed the subject.

"Have you started Professor Ramsey's assignment, yet?" she asked.

In truth, it hadn't even crossed his mind since Ramsey's class the day before. He had instructed them to create a list of ten defensive maneuvers that they could use against dark wizards in different situations. At the time, Harry had thought it seemed like a simple enough assignment and had consequently forgotten about it completely. But years of Hermione's nagging had taught him that it was best not to confess this.

"I've thought about it, but I haven't written anything down yet."

There, that was marginally truthful anyway.

"I've finished nine of the scenarios," Hermione said thoughtfully, "but I'm having trouble with the tenth. Do you think Professor Ramsey wants us to list defensive spells we've already learned or new ones? I found some really interesting spells in the back of our new textbooks but we haven't learned them yet. Maybe I should just list two..."

"Right, good idea," Harry agreed absently, not really listening anymore. His thoughts had switched over to the new professor and Lupin's letter from that morning.

"Hermione," he asked tentatively. "What do you think of Ramsey?"

"Well," she said, looking up from her book, "he seems quite competent so far, doesn't he? Certainly an improvement over Umbridge. And it will be really interesting to have a magiventrus for a teacher."

"Yeah, but...well, we haven't exactly had much luck with Defense Against the Dark Arts instructors, have we? Other than Lupin, of course. I mean, half of them have turned out to be evil. And the Slytherins did applaud the loudest for him yesterday."

"Really?" she said absentmindedly as she continued staring at the book in front of her. "I didn't notice. Even if they did, that doesn't necessarily mean that Ramsey is evil. Didn't Dean say something about some of the Slytherins knowing Ramsey because of his job? He seems very nice so far. Maybe we should just be grateful we have a decent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year. Besides, Dumbledore wouldn't have hired him if he didn't trust him."

"He trusted Moody and look what happened then?"

"Dumbledore wouldn't let himself be fooled by the same trick twice. He knows how dangerous it is now. I'm sure he's doing everything he can to keep us safe and Ramsey is part of that. And Ramsey hasn't given us any reason yet not to trust him, right?"

With some foreboding, Harry couldn't help but think that the opposite was true as well. For while Ramsey certainly hadn't behaved in a way to make him untrustworthy, no one had yet provided a reason why they _should_ trust Ramsey.

After finishing their Potions assignment, in addition to Ramsey's assignment, Hermione finally consented to a break and they decided to go down early to dinner.

The creak of the tall oak doors followed by the howl of the storm outside stopped them in mid-stride as they crossed the entrance hall. Rain whipped around a huge figure looming in the doorway. Hagrid stepped in dripping wet, a small pool forming at his feet. He slammed the door shut with a loud bang.

"Hagrid!" Harry called out, rushing over to him with Hermione following closely behind him.

Hagrid shook out his black mane of hair and Harry flinched as huge raindrops splattered him.

"_Siccaro!_" Hermione said, aiming her wand at Hagrid to use the same drying spell she had demonstrated the day prior.

"Thank yeh, Hermione! Terrible out there today. Haven' seen a storm like this in years. Had ter cancel all o' me classes," said Hagrid as they followed him into the empty Great Hall, whose ceiling was currently a mass of dark gray swirling clouds. Raindrops pelted down in torrents from the sky far above but disappeared twenty feet above them. The warm glow of candles and the burning hearths was interrupted by a flash of white lightning.

Hagrid took off his heavy coat, knelt in front of one of the fireplaces and held out his hands to warm them by the fire. "Don' think I'd go back out there if it wasn' fer Beaky an' Fang," he commented.

"How is Buckbeak?" Hermione asked politely, seating herself next to Hagrid.

"Oh, Beaky? He's...well...he's not quite himself. Hasn' bin eatin' like he used ter, not since...," Hagrid glanced nervously at Harry and cleared his throat. "Anyway...Beaky's all righ'. Seemed a bit depressed this summer, but he's doin' much better now. Ate three ferrets this mornin' in fact," he added quickly in a brighter tone of voice. "He needs ter be with his own kind though, I reckon. I'm hopin' to set 'im loose, but he's bin livin' with humans fer too long.. It'd be better though if he traveled south with the rest o' the Hippogriffs 'fore winter."

Of course, Harry realized that what Hagrid had been about to say was that Buckbeak hadn't been acting the same since Sirius died.

"And how've you bin gettin' along, Harry?" Hagrid asked with concern, as though he knew very well where Harry's thoughts had strayed.

"Fine," Harry answered shortly, not looking directly at Hagrid. He changed the subject quickly before Hagrid could question him further. "And what about Grawp? Is he still in the forest?"

A look of delight crossed Hagrid's face, but just at that moment, several students started to file in to the room. Hagrid lowered his voice and said hurriedly, "I'll tell yeh all abou' Grawpy later an' I have somethin' else to show yeh, so bring Ron by later this week."

"We were planning on visiting you after dinner," said Harry.

"No - not tonight. I don' want you three out in that," Hagrid said strongly, pointing at the dark skies above them.

Hermione looked somewhat disappointed and Harry supposed that she was as uneasy as he was about whatever Hagrid wanted to show them. But they quickly agreed to visit Hagrid that weekend before leaving him to find their places at the Gryffindor table.

Ron showed up shortly thereafter and it was quite apparent that he had not yet apologized to Hermione because there was some tension between them. However, the discomfort quickly diminished as they told Ron of their conversation with Hagrid. They spent much of the evening meal discussing what creatures Hagrid might be raising now. But the possibilities were too endless and alarming to contemplate.

The tension between Ron and Hermione returned when they had exhausted that conversation and continued as they spent the evening studying in the Gryffindor common room. Eventually, Harry thought it best to leave them alone in the hopes that they would be forced to sort everything out between each other if he was gone. Both of them looked pleadingly at him to stay but he walked out of the common room without a backwards glance, only feeling slightly guilty. After all, he would have had to leave a few minutes later anyway for his Occlumency lesson.

Following Ramsey's instructions, he walked down several flights to find the Defense Against the Dark Arts office. The corridors were quieter than normal. It seemed that most of the students had decided to stay in their common rooms that night.

Approaching Ramsey's office, he heard two voices within. He was about to knock on the door but was suddenly overcome by the urge to listen. This was a unique opportunity to learn more about the new professor. And he became even more interested when he realized that the other voice belonged to Snape.

"I pity you, Ramsey," Snape said. "I wouldn't wish Occlumency lessons with Potter on my worst enemy."

"Is that the fault of the student or the teacher, Severus?" Ramsey asked, with a note of amusement in his voice.

"Very funny, Ramsey," Snape said, making it very clear that there was nothing amusing about it, "but I give you fair warning that Harry Potter is every bit as arrogant as his father ever was."

"Oh, I sincerely doubt that, Severus," Ramsey said sincerely. "He seems quite level-headed from what I've seen."

Harry smiled. Maybe Professor Ramsey was decent after all. He suddenly felt a bit more charitable towards him at least.

Ramsey continued and Harry could almost hear the smirk on his face as he said, "And after all, no one could ever be as arrogant as James Potter."

The smile vanished.

Inside the office, Snape snorted with amusement. "I'll give you that, Ramsey. No one could surpass James Potter, but don't say that I didn't warn you about his son."

"All right, all right, you've warned me, Severus. Now, you'd better leave before he arrives. And please don't forget that potion I asked you about."

Outside, visible through a nearby window, there was a flash of light as a bolt of lighning forked across the sky. It was followed almost instantaneously by a loud crack and the low rumble of thunder. The sound blocked out any response that Harry might otherwise have heard. And shortly thereafter, he realized that there were no more sounds coming from beyond the door whatsoever.

Standing to the side of the door in case someone stepped out, Harry waited to hear footsteps approaching. When none came and several minutes had passed, he knocked lightly on the door. There was no answer, so he knocked again more firmly. Still no answer.

Hesitantly, Harry pushed the door open very slowly, wondering if Snape was still there or if they had realized that he had been standing just outside. As he walked fully into Ramsey's office, he saw no sign of Snape, but what was more surprising was that he saw no sign of Ramsey either.

However, the room was by no means empty. Every bit of space seemed to be filled with all sorts of exotic and interesting-looking objects. It was cluttered and yet organized, rather like an old library whose collections had swelled until the books had to be stacked on the floor because the shelves were overflowing.

Indeed, much was the same here. Two wide, tall bookcases were lined with thick leather-bound volumes, many of which looked ancient, with spines tattered by age rather than wear. The books that didn't fit neatly on the shelves were piled on top of a nearby table, and still more were stacked on Ramsey's desk. Strewn among all of the books was an assortment of objects. There were small statues of some very odd-looking anthropomorphic creatures standing on the shelves in front of the books. And, on top of one of the bookcases, a line of African masks was displayed. Some of them looked almost nightmare-inducing while others were quite humorous. Harry found himself staring at one of the odder masks for a few seconds, until the mask blinked its eyes and stuck out a bright red tongue at him.

Stepping back in surprise, he brushed against a curio cabinet, just as large as the bookcases. On one of the lower shelves, there was a pile of scrolls. Some looked just like the rolls of parchment that Hogwarts students used for writing, while others were made of a rougher material and looked old enough to disintegrate at the slightest touch.

On another shelf, there was a line of bottles, some were ornate and etched with intricate designs in gold while others were dull in color and oddly-shaped, they looked like rejects that a glass-blower had long ago tossed away. Some of the bottles appeared empty and some were filled with powders, while others held bright liquids.

The topmost shelf held an array of items that wouldn't have looked out of place in Knockturn Alley. Huge, long fangs that Harry could only assume had belonged to dragons lay in neat rows beside a skull that looked only half-human and some very odd-looking spiked horns. Scattered among the fangs, horns, and skull were small amulets and charms of silver and gold, some had features set with precious stones. And, in a prominent place at the center of the shelf, was a crumpled, blackened hand, wrapped in tattered strips of dark linen. Harry was uncomfortably reminded of the Hand of Glory that he'd encountered four years ago at Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley.

His stomach clenched uncomfortably with a feeling of revulsion and disgust. Turning his back on the cabinet and the leering masks, Harry walked toward Ramsey's desk. Sitting in a leather armchair across from the desk, he waited for the professor's return. The chair was comfortable, and Harry could feel the warmth from the burning embers in the fireplace. The unease he had felt began to dissipate.

Ramsey's desk was plain compared to the rest of the office but it held its own mysteries. There were six books neatly stacked to one side with one large book open in the center. If not for the wooden box and the bronze statue sitting in the top corners, it would look like any desk Hermione had just occupied. The statue reminded him of the other objects in the room - it was some sort of deity by his guess - a woman with four arms. The box, on the other hand, looked completely out of place. It was beautiful and exotic, with an intricate pattern of vines and floral shapes carved into the reddish-toned wood.

Despite his better judgement, Harry felt an overwhelming desire to open the box. Although, when he considered the contents in the rest of the room, he knew that there was no telling what might be in it. But the box looked so _different_ from the rest of the objects that filled the room, that it felt safe to him.

His curiosity was piqued now so he looked quickly around the room for any sign of Ramsey returning and reached towards the box. But just before his hand touched the surface, he felt a shock at his fingertips as though there were some invisible barrier surrounding the box. Believing that the shock was just a coincidence, he was about to reach for it again when he heard a noise. His hand drifted to the base of the statue as he turned towards the sound.

Ramsey coughed as he stepped out of the fireplace. He looked up at Harry and smiled. "Beautiful, isn't she?" he said as he brushed the soot from his robes.

"Wha?" Harry asked in surprise, and then realized that Ramsey was referring to the statue whose base he was still touching. He pulled his hand quickly back to his side. "Er...yeah, I s'pose," he said, although truthfully he didn't know why anyone would find a four-armed woman with her tongue sticking out all that attractive.

"That's Kali," Ramsey explained, as he walked over to the glass cabinet. "She's the Hindu goddess of death." He opened the cabinet and placed a small glass vial full of a phosphorescent blue liquid onto the shelf among the other glass bottles.

"Is it magical?" asked Harry.

"No, she's one of the few objects here that isn't magically related in the slightest actually. You're wondering why I would keep a statue like that on my desk, aren't you?"

Which, of course, was exactly what Harry was thinking.

"Kali serves as a reminder of something that I should never forget," said Ramsey, his tone suddenly quite serious. "And I suppose, to me, she also represents hope."

Harry raised one eyebrow and looked skeptically at Ramsey, wondering how a goddess of death could possibly represent hope.

As though he had read Harry's mind, Ramsey answered the unasked question. "You see, Harry, despite Kali's appearance, she isn't really an evil spirit. Good and evil lie in a delicate balance and the ancients seemed to understand that much better than modern society. Many deities that you might think of as evil were actually revered for the good that they could do. Kali, for example, has the power to bring about death and destruction but she also has the power to save people from death and is even worshipped as a loving goddess by some." Moving to the bookshelf, he picked up a statue of a dog-headed person and set it on his desk beside the statue of Kali as he sat down across from Harry.

Harry sat silently, half-listening. Who was Ramsey to lecture to him about good and evil? He, Harry, had seen more than enough evil in his life already and there had been nothing good about any of it. Would Ramsey dare to argue that Voldemort had some good side to him as well?

"And Anubis," Ramsey continued, gesturing to the dog-headed statue, "was one of the most popular gods of ancient Egypt, despite the fact that he was the god of death and mummification. He was adored because he would guide the deceased in their journey through the underworld and help them achieve eternal life."

Harry perked up at hearing this. It had reminded him of something...something that Dumbledore had said about the veil in the Department of Mysteries being the entrance to the journey to the afterlife. He had called it the forbidden passage. His brow furrowed in concentration at this stream of thoughts, Harry looked up at Ramsey with renewed interest.

Ramsey was studying the statues. Then his eyes rested on the wooden box for second. For the briefest of moments, less than a heartbeat, the professor's face held a look of intense sorrow. The emotion was so transparent that his pain radiated from him and Harry actually felt sorry for him. But as quickly as the emotion had appeared, it was gone without a trace and the corners of Ramsey's mouth rose slightly in the calm smile that now seemed to be his daily mask.

But when Ramsey spoke again, there was an edge to his voice. "As you can see, Harry, I have somewhat of a passion for ancient cultures. So, here I am prattling on about mythology when you're here for Occlumency lessons." He stood up from his chair. "Shall we go then?"

"I'm sorry for the delay," Ramsey apologized as they walked out into the corridor. "I hope you didn't wait too long," he said kindly.

"No, I just arrived," Harry lied. He wasn't about to admit to arriving early and hearing and seeing what he had in Ramsey's office.

"Good. I had some business to discuss with Professor Snape."

"Are you friends with him? I mean, I saw you talking to him at dinner," said Harry. He realized that this line of questioning was a bit invasive for a teacher, but then again Ramsey had been the one to mention Snape and it was a perfect opportunity.

"Professor Snape? Well, no, not really. This is the first I've seen him in years. You might say we were old acquaintances."

Oddly, Harry felt a bit of disappointment. It wasn't that he wanted Ramsey and Snape to be friends, but rather that he had felt that this was one of the few things about Ramsey of which he had felt relatively certain. Now it seemed that Ramsey was once again a complete mystery. At times, Ramsey seemed almost too perfect, both kind and a very competent teacher. And yet, he had such an odd office, full of what seemed to be dark objects. And there was his conversation with Snape. And, at times, there was something in his eyes and his expression that disturbed Harry. By the time they reached the seventh floor corridor, Harry felt just as confused about Ramsey as he had the first time he'd seen him.

"So how do we get into this room?" Ramsey asked, looking curiously at the blank wall in front of them as though he were trying to see through to the other side.

Harry explained and Ramsey followed his instructions. Three turns and the door appeared instantly in the previously blank wall.

"Brilliant!" Ramsey said in awe as they stepped into the room. "I've never seen anything quite like it. It's such a complex charm - it has to conceal the room, stock it, and read the user's mind to do so. It's absolutely brilliant. I wonder...," Ramsey's voice trailed off and he didn't complete whatever he was going to say. But Harry could almost see the gears working in his head as he contemplated the spells that composed the Room of Requirement.

Candles flickered around the room and emitted a warm, calming glow. The room was relatively empty except for a couple of chairs as well as a pile of the cushions that they had used the day before in Defense class. Next to the chairs was a small table with a few books. Ramsey sat in one of the chairs and motioned for Harry to do the same.

"So, Harry, I thought we might start by discussing what you covered with Professor Snape before."

"Well...we just sort of practiced Occlumency."

"Practiced? You mean Professor Snape didn't teach you any techniques first?"

"Techniques?"

"Yes, you know, methods of emptying your thoughts and such."

"No, he'd just tell me to clear my mind."

"Hmm," Ramsey frowned. "Well, I can see why you've had some trouble with it then. But still, after several months of lessons, I would imagine that you would have progressed somewhat. Professor Dumbledore has naturally informed me of the circumstances that brought about the need for Occlumency lessons. I believe you when you say that Professor Snape's lessons may have not been as thorough as they should have been and I know something of the animosity between the two of you, but it is also my understanding that you were somewhat resistant to learn Occlumency, is this true?"

"They didn't even tell me why I needed to learn it!" said Harry defensively, his voice raised. "I didn't know that Voldemort," Harry stopped in midsentence. He looked at Ramsey, expecting him to flinch at the name. But Ramsey did not flinch. In fact, he showed no response to the name whatsoever, not even a flicker in his eyes.

"Yes?" Ramsey urged quite calmly. "Go on."

Harry sighed. "I didn't know that he sent the dreams on purpose."

"Please understand, Harry, that I don't blame you, nor does anyone else," Ramsey said very calmly. "You were manipulated by the dark lord. But what I need to know is that you will commit wholeheartedly to these lessons now. Without the desire and intent to succeed at Occlumency, you will find it next to impossible to block your mind from those that wish to penetrate it. And if you are unwilling to learn, there is very little I or anyone else can do to help you."

It was true that Harry had made little effort in his lessons the previous year. At the time, he had thought that he had enough to worry about without some unexplained lessons from Snape. Now it seemed a lifetime since he had first started Occlumency lessons. So much had changed since then. Now he understood. Now he knew why Lupin had stressed to him that nothing was more important than his learning Occlumency. But now was too late. Still one thing was certain - the times had changed and so had he.

"I want to learn now. I don't want him to use me again," Harry said, his jaw set with determination.

Ramsey smiled approvingly. "That's very good, Harry," he said, impressed by Harry's resolve. "You'll need to call upon those feelings when you practice. Now I think we should start slowly tonight. Emptying your mind is perhaps the most important step to Occlumency so I would like to begin with some exercises that will help you to do just that."

They spent the next half hour discussing various methods. Some of them were physical, like exercise or pinching the tip of a finger until all of your thoughts were focused on the nerve endings at that point. Others were more psychological: Harry had to close his eyes and imagine himself tossing each of his thoughts in a rubbish bin or focus his mind on a single image (a technique that he soon decided against, seeing as the only image that would readily come to his mind for some unfathomable reason was Ginny silhouetted by the setting sun as she had walked away from him the previous evening).

Still other methods relied on patterns, the regular rhythm of his breathing or his heartbeat or counting silently in a foreign language. If his mind was occupied on these things, it would be empty of other thoughts.

"And now," Ramsey said mysteriously, "I've saved the best for last." He walked over to the table, picked up one of the books in the stack and handed it to Harry.

Harry stared bewildered at the book in his hands. "Advanced Arithmancy?" he asked, confusion written upon his face.

"Works every time," Ramsey said, smiling broadly. "I guarantee that you will sleep soundly after reading two pages of that. I would particularly recommend Chapter 14."

Harry laughed despite himself. But the laugh quickly turned into a yawn as the talk of sleeping had reminded him of how very tired he was. In truth, he had not slept well for some time and was working on an extreme sleep deficit.

Ramsey looked at him with concern. "All joking aside, a dull book is an excellent way to clear your mind before you go to sleep. And from the looks of it, I'd say a few hours of sleep is exactly what you need. Why don't you go on to bed now, Harry. I'm sure you've had a long day. We can have a more detailed lesson next time."

Harry nodded gratefully and walked towards the door, but then he hesitated. There was something he needed to know.

"Professor Ramsey?" he asked as he turned around.

Ramsey did not answer but looked at him expectantly.

"Professor Dumbledore said that you were a great Occlumens. Why?"

Ramsey looked a bit flustered and frowned. "Well, I'm sure that the Headmaster wanted you to have faith in my abilities."

"No," Harry said slowly, "I mean, in my experience, there are reasons why someone learns Occlumency. Why did you learn it?"

Ramsey stared at Harry for a moment and then turned towards the window and stared out at the moonlit grounds, the clouds having finally cleared.

"Ah, I see," he said. "Now that's a somewhat longer story, and one that I would rather not share if you don't mind. I learned from a very young age to block my thoughts and I can assure you that I have more than enough experience for this position." Professor Ramsey looked back at Harry, but now there was a pained expression in his gaze. His eyes held the same haunted look that Harry had noticed in them the first time he had seen him on the night of the Welcoming Feast.

That pained expression lingered in Harry's mind as he walked back to Gryffindor Tower and he couldn't help but wonder what had caused it. It was glaringly clear now that Ramsey did indeed have some kind of secret but he couldn't yet presume what it was. The man seemed to be a living paradox. He was friendly with Snape and apparently not with James Potter. Considering this, Harry might have expected Ramsey to treat him with the same contempt that Snape always did. But, on the contrary, Ramsey had been nothing but kind to him from the start and more than reasonable in lessons. But was this all covering up for something else?

The new professor was a complete mystery but one that Harry intended to solve. He would not let himself be caught again by foolishly misplacing his trust. No, he would be cautious, just as Lupin had requested. And with Ron and Hermione's help, they would solve this mystery just as they had so many others before it.

He walked back to the common room with the determination to do something he hadn't been capable of in months. He needed Ron and Hermione's help, but first they needed to know everything that he had been holding in. There were too many secrets that he had kept for far too long and now was the time to reveal them. Before the night was over, he would tell them everything - from the prophecy to the events at the Department of Mysteries to what he had learned of their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. And when morning came, it would be a time for action. His days of passivity were over.


	17. Ch 17: Confidences

**Harry Potter and the Forbidden Passage**

by Cendrillon

_Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to the creative mind of J.K. Rowling. I am merely borrowing her characters for my own and your amusement during the wait for Book 6. I am not benefitting monetarily for this story, my only rewards are your reviews._

_Author's Note: Thanks to my Sugar Quill beta-reader, Ozma.  
__Dear readers, please accept my apologies once again for the delay with this chapter. But the chapter does include quite a bit of summary so I don't think you'll need to reread all of Revelations again to catch up. This is a relatively short chapter because I split the original in two. So Chapter 18 (where the action really starts to increase) is well under way and I don't anticipate another lengthy delay before the next update. Thank you for your patience and your kind reviews - they are very much appreciated.  
_

* * *

**Chapter 17: Confidences**

Harry returned to the common room that evening prepared to tell Ron and Hermione everything that he'd been keeping in for these long months. Sleep, as badly as it was needed, could wait. This was much more important.

It was time to get his life back on track. There was too much at stake now to keep wallowing in his grief. The mysteries surrounding their new professor were simply the trigger for something he had been delaying for far too long. Now he needed their help and knowing Ron and Hermione as he did, they would surely have found out sooner rather than later about everything he was about to say to them and it was better that the news came from him. Provided that Hermione hadn't already sorted most of it out herself, as she was so apt to do, considering how quickly she'd discovered that he'd been the one that had sent the new broom to Ginny.

"Bouncing Ferret," Harry said to the Fat Lady, waking her from what appeared to be a peaceful slumber.

She yawned and her eyes fluttered open. "Out a bit late again, aren't we, dear?" she commented as the portrait swung slowly open.

Despite all of his rationalizations, he hesitated somewhat before stepping through the portrait hole. An image flashed in his mind of a night of tears, cursing, and shouting. The looming dread that overtook him left him feeling cold and miserable with a horrible aching in the pit of his stomach.

"Well, hurry up then. I'm not going to stay open all night," the Fat Lady called out from the other side.

Harry sighed and stepped through. He had imagined that he would have to wake Ron and Hermione but he should have known that they would be there waiting for his return.

Indeed, both of them were huddled in the same place where he had left them hours before. Though now they seemed quite a bit more amiable. Some sort of truce must have been formed in his absence. They were sitting beside the fireplace side by side. Hermione was intently studying the book in front of her. But Ron had fallen asleep, his head resting on her shoulder.

The portrait closed behind him and Hermione looked up towards the noise. Spotting him, she nudged Ron awake.

"H-Harry," Ron yawned, "you're back. How'd it go?"

"Yes, how was your Occlumency lesson?" Hermione asked. "Is Professor Ramsey a good teacher?"

"Occlumency was..." Harry paused, trying to think of an appropriate word to describe his first lesson with Professor Ramsey, "er...interesting."

He went on to explain everything that had taken place since he'd left them earlier - overhearing the conversation between Snape and Ramsey, his observations in the new defense instructor's office, and the Occlumency lesson itself. He told them about Lupin's letter, warning him to be cautious of Ramsey and alerting him to the animosity between Ramsey and his father. And finally, he told them of the cryptic response to his question of how Ramsey had become a great Occlumens.

"Hmm...Well, he certainly is mysterious, isn't he?" Hermione commented when he had finished. Her brow was furrowed in thought. "That was a rather evasive answer he gave you."

"He said he learned when he was very young, right? Maybe his parents worked with You-Know-Who or something," Ron suggested.

"Oh, don't be silly, Ron," said Hermione with a dismissive wave of her hand. "There are lots of other reasons that one might learn Occlumency that have nothing to do with Voldemort."

Ron still reacted to Voldemort's name, but his reaction on the whole had improved greatly over the past year. He only twitched slightly before responding. "Why don't we talk to Dumbledore, then? He must know the reason."

"Maybe," Harry said, "but Ramsey obviously doesn't want anyone to know the reason, so I doubt Dumbledore would tell us. I mean, look at Snape. We know he trusts him despite the fact that he was a Death Eater and Dumbledore still won't explain why. And besides, Lupin said that Dumbledore doesn't know everything about Ramsey."

"Well, why not ask Lupin then?" Ron suggested. "And I'll write to Bill. They both worked in Egypt so they probably met at some point. The wizarding community in Egypt is fairly small."

"And I can do some research in the library," Hermione added, unsurprisingly. "If Ramsey is half as well known as he seems to be, there must be something written about him."

"If you haven't heard about him, Hermione, then I very much doubt you'll find anything in the library," Ron commented, the corners of his mouth turned upwards into a smirk. "You might try some alternative literature. Judging from the female population here, you'll be more likely to find him in _Witch Weekly_."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "_Witch Weekly_. Honestly, Ron" she said, irritated. She paused, her brow furrowed in thought. "But actually you may have a point." Her eyes strayed to the Arithmancy book on the table. "Perhaps it's time for me to become a little friendlier with Daphne Greengrass. I heard her mention him the other day in Arithmancy. Maybe she knows something."

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance. They both stared back at Hermione as though she'd gone mad.

"Hermione, she's a Slytherin," Ron said plainly.

"Of course, the Slytherins all seem to know Ramsey, don't they? I'm sure she's the perfect one to ask."

"But...she's a Slytherin" Ron repeated as though Hermione hadn't heard him the first time. "She's not going to talk to you."

"Of course, she will. We talk every day. She sits next to me in Arithmancy. It may be contrary to what you believe, Ron, but not all Slytherins are like Malfoy."

Ron looked rather skeptical and Harry couldn't help but feel some doubt as well. He had never had a positive experience with a Slytherin and somehow doubted that he ever would. The very idea that Hermione was holding friendly conversations with one on a regular basis was something of a shock.

"Well," Hermione said, yawning as she piled her books into her bag, "now that that's settled, perhaps we should get to bed. It's getting late."

Ron stood up to follow her.

"Wait!"

The word escaped Harry's mouth before he even realized it. And now that it was said, there was no taking it back. He had set himself on a course that he had just nearly talked himself out of taking. He had just begun to question whether it was really necessary to tell Ron and Hermione anything more.

The subject of their mysterious new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was so much safer and easier than what would come next. Did they really need to know what had happened on his second visit to the Department of Mysteries that summer? And could any good possibly come from telling them about the prophecy? As it was, he wished that he could forget all of it.

And yet, something had compelled him to stop them - to carry through with his original intentions for that evening.. They had all shared so much together. They were a part of this whether he liked it or not. And he had never kept anything from them before these last few months - before Sirius died. And now it was time for them to know the rest.

"Harry?" Hermione looked at him with concern. "What is it? Is there something else?"

His heart was pounding in his chest.

"Yes," he finally answered after a moment's pause. "Yes, there's something else." He sighed. It was now or never. "I need to tell you...everything."

Hermione's eyes widened as she realized the significance of what he was saying. "Really? Are you sure, Harry? I know I've asked you to open up to us lately, but if you're not ready, we can wait." She sat beside him and looked intently at him, waiting for his answer.

He nodded slowly and looked back at her. "Yes, I'm sure. I've waited too long already. It's not going to be easy, but it's time."

"All right then. We'll stay as long as it takes." She smiled almost gratefully at him.

Before she would let him begin, Hermione prepared cups of tea for the three of them with an Ennervating Potion in them. One sip and Harry felt instantly alert and revived as though he had just awakened from a long night's sleep. He had to remind himself to ask Hermione how to prepare it later.

Now that he had made his decision, the feeling of dread was quickly evaporating, almost seeming to dissolve as the warm tea slipped down his throat. Hermione and Ron listened intently as he began telling them about his return to the Department of Mysteries that summer. Once the words started pouring out of him, he found it much easier than he had first imagined.

Thanks to Snape's interference, they already knew that he had nearly lost his life to the veil. But the revelation of what had caused him to approach the veil in the first place was entirely new. The voices still echoed in his memory as he retold the story. Hermione was clearly trying to keep her emotions in check but a silent tear slipped down one cheek as he finally revealed that it was the voices of his mother and Sirius that had called to him and begged him to join them beyond the veil.

Not allowing himself to succumb to the emotions that memory threatened to stir, he hurried on to explain how Dumbledore had stopped him at the last possible second. After omitting any discussion of the lecture that had followed, he continued and recounted Dumbledore's explanation of the history of the death chamber and the veil as a means of execution. Ron and Hermione both knew something of the history from the _Daily Prophet_ article earlier that week but there was some new information that caught them by surprise.

"You're kidding," Ron said in disbelief when Harry had finished. "Dumbledore actually said that someone passed through the veil and came back?"

Harry nodded.

"Who do you think it could be?" Ron asked.

"That's what I'd like to know," said Harry somberly. "And if that person made it through, then why can't Sirius?"

"But that's impossible. It doesn't make any sense," Hermione said in disbelief. "If Dumbledore said it leads to the afterlife, how could someone possibly return?"

"But they don't know much about the veil, do they?" Ron said darkly. "I mean, how would Dumbledore even know what's behind it unless he's seen it? Wait...you don't suppose Dumbledore's the one, do you?"

"Not unless he was sentenced to execution," said Harry. "Besides, he said that whoever returned from the veil didn't return to the world the way he left it."

"Maybe a ghost then?" offered Hermione.

"If that's the case," Ron said, "my vote's for the Bloody Baron. If any ghost here was bad enough to be executed, I'd bet on him."

They spent a while longer discussing their various theories on who the mysterious survivor might have been. Harry was happy to have steered the conversation away from himself for the time being. But all too quickly for his liking, the conversation died down and the time had come.

With only a moment's hesitation, he continued. "There's something else I have to tell you," he said darkly, not quite meeting their eyes.

"Something else?" Ron asked, surprised. He exchanged a worried glance with Hermione.

"You remember that night in the Hall of Prophecy? Of course you remember," Harry muttered, shaking his head. Who could forget being chased by a dozen Death Eaters? He continued, "Well, you remember how Neville told you that the prophecy broke? And that no one heard what it said?"

Ron and Hermione both nodded in response, each looking nervous and curious at the same time.

"You heard it. Didn't you?" Hermione prompted, her eyes wide as she made the realization.

Harry breathed in deeply, pausing before he answered. "Yes and no. The prophecy did break and no one heard it at the Ministry. There was too much noise all around us. But afterwards - in Dumbledore's office that night - he told me."

He went on to describe how he watched Trelawney's figure rise from the Pensieve and foretell his fate in that eerie voice. Hermione and Ron listened, transfixed as he recited the prophecy from memory. They almost seemed numb, not moving and hardly even breathing as he explained what it meant. It wasn't until he had finished and explained that he was to be either murderer or victim that they showed a response.

Ron gulped loudly. His face was a mask of true devastation. Meanwhile, the tears that Hermione had been holding in finally broke free in torrents. Her shoulders shook with her sobs and Ron awkwardly put an arm around her shoulder in an effort to comfort her.

Harry frowned. He had known that they might react like this, had even anticipated it in fact, but it still made him miserable to see it.

"What are all of you doing up at this hour?"

Ginny Weasley had appeared at the bottom of the staircase to the girl's dormitories. She yawned sleepily as she walked towards them. She couldn't have chosen a worse time to walk in on them.

Hermione sniffed and wiped her tears quickly with the sleeve of her dressing gown.

Ginny frowned as she took in the sight in front of her. "What's going on here?" she asked, suddenly much more alert. She looked with concern at Hermione, whose eyes were still red and puffy from crying. "Hermione, what's wrong?"

"Ginny, go back to bed," Ron ordered firmly. He stood up and took hold of Ginny's elbow to steer her back to the stairs.

She yanked her arm away. "No, I want to know what's going on. What did you say to her?" she demanded.

"It's none of your business," Ron said forcefully. "Leave us alone."

"It certainly is my business. Hermione's my friend and so is Harry. If something's happened, I want to know about it. I'm not leaving!" she replied angrily. She folded her arms and glared back at her brother.

Hermione glanced anxiously at Harry before turning to Ginny. "I'm all right" she said softly. "Really, Ginny. I...I was just being silly. You see, I'm fine now." She tried to smile reassuringly at Ginny. "Don't worry, it's...nothing." But as she said this, she glanced over at Harry again and her voice broke with the last word.

"Harry?" Ginny asked, staring directly at him. Her tone sounded almost threatening and she suddenly reminded Harry more than a bit of Mrs. Weasley in one of her tempers.

As his eyes locked with hers, Harry suddenly felt both nervous and guilty. He quickly looked away. He didn't want to burden Ginny with his secrets. It was bad enough that he had told Ron and Hermione. No one was supposed to know about the prophecy.

Ron stepped in before he could respond. "Ginny, if you don't go back to bed right now, I'll...I'll give you a detention with Filch."

"For what?" Ginny laughed derisively. "I haven't done anything wrong."

"I know you went out onto the grounds last night past curfew. And I'll tell Mum too and you know what she'd say about that."

Ginny glared angrily at her brother. She looked back at Hermione and Harry for support. When neither spoke up, she gave them a look of utter betrayal. "Fine" she snapped, "but I will find out what this was about one way or another." She stomped up the staircase angrily, making all too much noise for three o'clock in the morning.

"Someone else might come down any minute after that racket. We'd better go up soon and talk in the morning," Ron suggested.

Harry nodded in agreement and turned to Hermione. "Thanks for not saying anything to her."

"It's not my secret to tell, Harry. But you know you can trust Ginny, don't you?"

"I know," he admitted, "but I've already said more than I should have to you and Ron. Voldemort was willing to kill for the information I've just given you. I've put you both in danger now. I don't want to get Ginny involved too." He shook his head. "I probably shouldn't have said anything."

"Harry," Hermione reached out and touched his arm, "Don't say that. I don't know how you've kept it all in as long as you have. As for me and Ron, you can tell us anything and I expect you too."

He gave her a half-hearted smile in reply.

"Listen, Harry, everything's going to be all right. There's no question in my mind that you will be the survivor - it's your destiny. When the time comes, you'll be prepared and Ron and I will be there to help you."

"Yeah, mate, we're with you all the way. We'll see this through together," Ron said supportively.

And somewhere inside, Harry knew that was true. Just as he was destined to face Voldemort again someday, Ron and Hermione were destined to fight beside him. He had spent so many months imagining that he was all alone in this - that the entire fate of the wizarding world rested on him alone. Suddenly, that view had changed completely.

He had expected to fall asleep that night wondering whether or not he had made the right decision in telling them. But instead he found that a tremendous weight had been lifted from his shoulders. For the first time in so many months, he felt the faintest glimmer of hope.


	18. Ch 18: Draco's Detour

**Harry Potter and the Forbidden Passage **

by Cendrillon

_Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to the creative mind of J.K. Rowling. I am merely borrowing her characters for my own and your amusement during the wait for Book 6. I am not benefitting monetarily for this story, my only rewards are your reviews._

_Author's Note: Yes, the chapter title is entirely borrowed from J.K. - it posed too many possibilities to pass up. Parvati (a reader, not the character), Draco appears here thanks to your request._

* * *

**Chapter 18: Draco's Detour**

The next few days passed by in a blur of activity. It seemed that all of their teachers expected twice as much work out of their N.E.W.T. level students. Harry and Ron already had mountains of homework that were beginning to rapidly accumulate and they felt very fortunate that at least they had fewer classes than the previous year. Hermione, who had opted for nine classes, was even beginning to show signs of stress. But that didn't stop her from nagging Ron and Harry to work twice as hard as normal.

"If you have to face Voldemort again, at least you should be prepared," she explained as she made them practice a basic Conjuring spell for the twenty-seventh time that evening. "We can't always count on chance or the Order to intervene."

"But, Hermione," said Ron, exasperated, "how are Conjured pillows going to help us fight Death Eaters? Are we going to smother them to death?"

Harry laughed and Ron grinned at him. Hermione, on the other hand, didn't look amused in the slightest.

"And what if it was something else? What if it was a weapon?"

She furrowed her eyebrows in concentration and stared intently at the pillow in front of Ron. With an elaborate wave of her wand, it transformed instantly into a silver dagger.

Ron stared at it in awe. "Now _that_'s something we could use."

Hermione frowned. "I don't want to use it, and I don't want you to use it either. I was trying to make a point."

"And a very sharp point it is." Ron grinned devilishly as he gazed down at the dagger.

Hermione rolled her eyes. With another wave of her wand, she transformed the dagger back into Ron's lumpy pillow.

"Ron," she admonished, her tone like that of a mother scolding a child. She frowned disapprovingly at him before she continued.

"Death Eaters are going to use everything in their power in a battle. If we have to face off with fully-trained adult wizards again, then you two have a lot of catching up to do. You're both smart and capable and you have the talent, you just have to try harder. This isn't about grades any more, it's about life and death. If you don't have the knowledge, then your opponent will automatically have the advantage. Now let's try once more and do something a bit larger this time."

As much as Harry hated the extra work, it did seem to be having an effect. Whereas he hadn't been able to Conjure more than a wisp of smoke before, he could now Conjure a number of different objects - nothing that would be useful in a battle to the death, but still it was a start. And, best of all, it scored him house points from Professor McGonagall in their next Transfiguration class.

Despite their carefully laid plans to research Professor Ramsey, none of them had been able to spare the time yet, what with their heavier courseload and Hermione's extra practices. Add to that the Occlumency lessons and Harry didn't even have the chance to visit Hedwig in the Owlery, much less to write a letter to Lupin.

The one advantage to his heavy schedule was that he never had a problem clearing his mind before going to sleep - he was too exhausted by the end of the day. But that also meant that he hadn't really practiced Occlumency before his second lesson with Ramsey and he arrived woefully unprepared Thursday night. Ramsey immediately sensed it and, after a few admonishments, sent him back to Gryffindor Tower to practice the rest of the evening. And this, unfortunately, denied him the possibility of learning anything more about the new professor.

To top off the week, Harry was ten minutes late to the Quidditch tryouts - the one thing he had been looking forward to all week. And as the new Gryffindor Captain, it seemed a very poor way to start off the Quidditch season. By the time he arrived, Katie Bell was already organizing all of the potential Chasers - there were at least a dozen of them.

As he ran over to her on the pitch, she glared disapprovingly and succeeded effectively in making him feel ten times guiltier than he had already. Katie said something to one of the Chasers and handed her the Quaffle. The girl took off on her broom and flew to the far end where Ron was waiting, flying lazily between the three tall hoops. Katie motioned for the other Chasers to wait on the benches and then walked over to him.

"Where were you?" she hissed out of the side of her mouth. They stood side by side and watched the girl, a second-year student, throw the Quaffle at the center hoop and miss it by several yards.

"Sorry, lost track of the time."

The truth was that Hagrid had called him over after dinner to remind him to stop by for a visit the next day. Then, Ramsey pulled him aside to propose an extra Occlumency lesson that weekend to make up for the previous night. He was already late by the time he reached Gryffindor Tower to retrieve his Firebolt.

"Just don't let it happen again," she said irritably.

"It won't," he said stiffly. He was starting to feel a bit annoyed with Katie. Did she actually imagine that he would have been late if he could have helped it?

"Well, we don't have the best turnout," she continued, looking towards the dozen or so Gryffindors seated in the stands. "There are a fair number of Chasers, but only three Beaters. Here's the list," she said, passing him a piece of parchment with the names and positions of everyone who was trying out. "I'd suggest we watch each of them individually and narrow it down, and then we can see how they work together as a team."

He agreed and they watched the second-year girl for a few more painful minutes. She was a capable flyer but she couldn't throw straight if her life depended on it. He knew almost instantly that she would be cut, but not wanting to embarrass her, he let her continue playing longer than necessary. As soon as he thought they'd given her a decent amount of time, he called the next Chaser on the list and repeated the process again.

After watching the first eleven Chasers, he could already feel all hopes of winning the Quidditch Cup again quickly evaporating. Even though a dozen Gryffindors had arrived to try out for the two Chaser positions, none of them so far would make decent replacements for Angelina and Alicia.

He looked down at the clipboard at the very last name and his spirits instantly brightened.

"Weasley, Ginny," he called out, trying to sound professional and suppressing the levity he felt.

Ginny rose from the stands and walked out to the pitch, with her Nimbus Chaser in hand.

He met her gaze briefly and couldn't help himself from grinning at her encouragingly. She frowned and turned away, then mounted her broomstick and sped off to the far side of the pitch. Ron greeted her in mid-air, but even from far away, Harry could see her turn a cold shoulder to her brother.

Ginny hadn't spoken to any of them since Tuesday night when they had refused to tell her what was going on after Harry had revealed the prophecy to Ron and Hermione. Ron seemed to be used to this sort of thing and shrugged it off but Hermione wasn't taking the silent treatment from Ginny quite as well. She and Ginny had become close friends and confidantes over the last few years and Harry knew that it was very difficult for her to lie and keep secrets from Ginny. She never complained, but Harry could tell that she was very uncomfortable with the whole situation. And to be perfectly honest, so was he.

Perhaps he would tell Ginny after all, if only to save them all from her wrath. He had told Hermione that he didn't want to burden Ginny with the knowledge, but in truth he simply wasn't ready at the time to tell her. It had taken enough time and nerve to tell Ron and Hermione, his best friends for the last five years. Telling Ginny simply wasn't something he had planned to do that night. It wasn't that he didn't trust her, but he didn't feel close enough to her yet to reveal his deepest, darkest secrets. If she only understood that, maybe she would forgive Hermione and Ron at least.

He watched her as she threw the Quaffle and it fell perfectly through the center of the tallest hoop, evading Ron's capture by several feet. She scored several more times in repetition, using a different tactic each time. Her practice had clearly paid off. When she was finished, Harry felt encouraged that his team would at least have two very capable Chasers.

There were only three Beaters who tried out; their two previous beaters, Jack Sloper and Andrew Kirke (who both swore that they had practiced all summer together), and a tall, burly-looking seventh-year named Darius Flynn. As it turned out, Katie had badgered Flynn, a friend of hers, into trying out. And it was fortunate she had, because he was a decent player and he hit the Bludger powerfully enough that it clear off the pitch, hurtling towards the Forbidden Forest. Harry had to race at full speed on his Firebolt to retrieve it before it could get lost in the dense foliage of the forest's upper canopy.

After the individual tryouts, Harry narrowed the Chaser list down to six and dismissed those that he crossed off. The remaining players split up into two teams with three Chasers each and Sloper and Kirke as Beaters for one team and Katie and Flynn for the other. Meanwhile, Harry took the position of Keeper opposite Ron. There was no need for a Seeker.

It felt good to be back up in the air playing after almost a year of no Quidditch. When his competitive spirit arose, Harry actually had to remind himself that he was here to assess the players not to win the game. It seemed very odd to play Keeper and survey the game from such a different vantage point. Once he started practices (assuming he was able to assemble a decent team), he thought he might have each of them try out different positions for the first week.

After only half an hour of play, the game suddenly screeched to a halt. A third-year named Natalie McDonald hurled the Quaffle so hard that it hit Ron square in the chest and nearly knocked him off his broomstick. He dangled from the broom by one leg for a horrifying second before Ginny, who was nearest to him, rushed over and helped him down to the ground.

Harry was already rushing towards the pair of them when he heard laughter coming from the stands. As he turned towards it, he wasn't surprised to see a pale blond-haired boy flanked by two dark-haired behemoths, all laughing as though they had seen the funniest thing in their lives.

"Hit by a little girl!" Malfoy sniggered. "You've reached a new low, Weasel King," Malfoy shouted to Ron, "but at least you actually caught the ball this time!"

In that moment, Harry paused in mid-air, caught between his concern for Ron and his desire to pound Malfoy into oblivion. He glanced back at Ron who was surrounded now by several people. He looked back at Malfoy who was staring malevolently back at him.

"Bravo on assembling such a fine team, Potter. With performances like that, they may actually save us the effort of pulverizing you in the first match!"

"We'll see who does the pulverizing in November!" Harry yelled back. "Now sod off, Malfoy, or I'll tell McGonagall how you caused that accident by distracting the girl."

Malfoy glared back at him and sputtered, "But I didn't -"

"Who do you think she'll believe, Malfoy?" Harry asked with a devilish grin. "I have eleven other people here who will back me up. I'll also remind you that you're interrupting a private Gryffindor team practice."

"Crabbe, Goyle, let's go. We have more important things to do than watching a bunch of flying Jarveys playing Quidditch," Malfoy said scathingly.

Good riddance, thought Harry, as he turned back to Ron and joined the rest of the team. The poor girl who had hit Ron looked terrified, embarrassed, and disappointed all at once. He didn't need to use Legilimency to know what she was thinking - that she would definitely not be joining the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. Harry felt a bit sorry for her actually, even if she had hit his best friend with a Quaffle, but he couldn't quite bring himself to give her any sign of encouragement.

"How are you?" he asked Ron anxiously.

"Fine," Ron croaked, his voice a higher octave than normal. His face had become distinctly pale. He was bent over a bit and clutching his sides.

"You don't look fine."

"Well, I…I might have cracked - ahh," Ron winced, "a rib…or two."

"We'd better get you to the hospital wing. Ginny, can you help?" Ginny nodded and Harry turned to Katie. "Can you finish things up and meet us there? We can discuss the team together after Ron's treated."

Katie quickly agreed to his request and he and Ginny started leading Ron gingerly towards the castle. As they began to walk away, he heard Katie addressing the other Gryffindors.

"The tryouts are over, everyone," she said to the assembled crowd. "Thank you for coming. We'll post the final team list on the notice board by morning."

Just as they reached the top of the steep climb back up to the castle, Harry realized that Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle should have been only a short distance ahead of them, but they were no where to be seen. All of the Gryffindors were a short distance behind them, but there was no else. But looking towards the horizon, he saw a shadow in the distance - three figures walking towards the Forbidden Forest.

* * *

An hour later, Ron's three broken bones were completely healed, thanks to Madam Pomfrey. But she still insisted that he spend the night in the hospital wing in case any signs of internal bleeding developed.

Harry, Ron, and Katie had spent the last hour discussing the tryouts but had come to few conclusions yet. All three agreed unanimously on accepting Ginny and Flynn, but that still left one Chaser position and one Beater position.

"Sloper knocked himself unconscious with his own bat last year, so he's out in my opinion," Katie said, "even if he has practiced over the summer."

"Well, that leaves us with Kirke then, doesn't it?" said Harry. All three of them frowned. It wasn't a great alternative. Kirke was a capable flyer and in fact had improved quite a bit in this respect, but he never hit the Bludger forcibly enough to send it very far.

"So what about the other Chaser position?" he asked. He couldn't really see any advantage to any of them.

"Perks was good at passing, but her scoring was inconsistent. Still, she worked well with her team, so I guess I'd vote for her," said Katie.

"What about that third-year girl?" Ron asked. "The one who hit me with the Quaffle. She was a pretty good flier."

Harry and Katie each stared at Ron as though he'd gone mad.

"Natalie McDonald?" Katie asked, looking entirely bewildered.

"She's the reason you're in here, Ron," said Harry. "If she did that to another Keeper, we could be disqualified from a match."

"I'm not saying she should be a Chaser."

"Then what are we talking about?"

"Think a minute, Harry," said Ron. "She's too aggressive and Kirke isn't aggressive enough. Switch them. Make Kirke a Chaser and Natalie a Beater."

Harry and Katie exchanged a glance of mutual surprise.

"You know, that just might work," he said, astonished that he was even thinking about adding the same girl that he was sure he would dismiss only moments ago. He felt somewhat in awe of Ron's strategically-minded observation, though he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised considering Ron's aptitude for chess.

"All right," Katie agreed, "let's try it. And if there are any problems, we can switch them back and I'll work with Natalie on her throwing. I think she might be all right as a Chaser with more practice."

"Are we all agreed, then?" Harry asked. "We'll add Ginny and Kirke as Chasers and Natalie and Flynn as Beaters."

"Agreed," Ron and Katie said simultaneously with enough confidence in their voices to make him think that maybe dreams of the Quidditch Cup weren't so lost after all.

* * *

True to their word, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny left the castle after lunch the next day to visit Hagrid. Ron had finally been allowed to leave the hospital wing earlier that morning. He had joined them in the Great Hall for breakfast and ate so heartily that no one would have guessed that he'd broken three ribs the night before.

Ron's injury must have had some effect on Ginny because suddenly overnight she seemed to have forgiven them. She sat with them at breakfast and chatted as though the past few days hadn't happened. As a sort of peace gesture, Hermione invited her along for their visit with Hagrid.

It was a pleasant day - warm with a slight breeze - and most of the students were spending their Saturday outside on the grounds. There was distant laughter coming from the lake where many of them were studying or lounging about. And in the distance, tiny figures on broomsticks could be seen flying over the Quidditch pitch. Blurs of blue and silver indicated that the Ravenclaw Quidditch team was holding their own tryouts. Harry wondered vaguely if Cho was there even though she had said she would not be on the team this year.

The area around Hagrid's hut was quiet in comparison. The gardens, where the pumpkins for the Halloween Feast had already grown to roughly the size and shape of a younger Dudley Dursley, were still and silent. The paddock beyond was empty, absent of any of Hagrid's usual assortment of strange and dangerous creatures.

"Hagrid?" Hermione called loudly as they reached his hut.

Harry knocked on the huge wooden door. There was no answer or sound from within except for Fang's barking. After several more attempts, Ron walked around the side and peered through a low window.

"He's not in there," Ron said after a moment, still looking through the dusty window. "Only Fang."

Harry stopped knocking and looked curiously at the others. "That's odd. He told me just yesterday to come at noon."

Hermione turned without a word and walked back towards the paddock so intently that the rest of them followed immediately.

"I think we might be able to find out where he went," she explained.

As they reached the paddock, she led them around to the gate.

"I was right!" she declared triumphantly, looking at the muddy ground. "I noticed when we walked by the paddock that the gate was open. And I knew that this area would be really muddy after the storms this week, so if Hagrid opened the gate anytime recently, his tracks would still be here. And see, there they are!"

She pointed to the ground next to the gate where there was a jumble of footprints mixed with semicircular marks which may have been hoof prints. They followed the tracks around the side of the house and through the gardens. From there, the prints could clearly be seen leading back on a well-trodden path to the edge of the trees and straight into the Forbidden Forest.

"He's probably visiting Grawp. Do you think we should find them?" Harry asked.

"You want to visit a giant?" Ron asked incredulously. "Let's just wait here. I'm sure he'll be back soon. I mean, he was expecting us, right?"

Ignoring this, Harry pursued the trail up to the edge of the forest and stared into its dark depths. The forest was so dense here that it was hard to see past a few yards. Without a pause, he stepped onto the rough path that continued into the forest. Before he'd walked even a few paces, Hermione pulled sharply at his sleeve.

"Wait, Harry, we can't go into the forest alone. What about the centaurs? Those look like hoof prints next to Hagrid's and if you follow them, you'll be headed straight for the centaurs."

"And I'm not too keen on running into Hagrid's little brother either," added Ron.

Harry frowned and looked at them reproachfully. Centaurs and giants seemed trivial now to him. But on second thought, he supposed that barging straight into the forest might not be the best idea.

They agreed to a compromise and walked along the edge of the forest together, looking for any sign of Hagrid and calling out his name occasionally. After fifteen minutes, they had walked around to the opposite side of the castle and Ron was showing signs of impatience.

"Come on, Harry. Give it up. Hagrid's probably back waiting for us already. Let's go and -"

"Shh!" Ginny hissed, holding one finger to her lips and commanding silence. "Look," she whispered, pointing in between the trees to a small clearing not far from the where they stood.

They heard a squawk, something like the screech of a bird of prey. Then there was a flash of grey feathers as the creature spread its wings. Its head suddenly jerked upward and swallowed whole a piece of meat that was dripping with blood. The moment of horror that he felt in that brief second vanished when he recognized what he was seeing.

"It's Buckbeak," Harry said aloud, astonished to see the hippogriff wandering the forest on its own.

"Those hoof prints," Hermione remarked with sudden realization, "They must have been Buckbeak's."

Harry walked over to the hippogriff very slowly, hoping not to startle it. Buckbeak took no notice though as he swallowed what Harry could only presume were the hind quarters of a rabbit.

"Buckbeak," he called out, trying to alert the hippogriff to his presence before he came too close. The hippogriff looked up. It crooked its head to one side in a birdlike manner and stared at him.

Harry wasn't sure if Buckbeak recognized him and was prepared to bow to him. He began to lower his head and the hippogriff suddenly charged towards him. Just as he held up his hands to fend off the attack, the hippogriff nuzzled its beak against his shoulder affectionately.

Shaking off the fear that had temporarily paralyzed him, he patted the hippogriff's beak in response. As he stroked Buckbeak's neck, he noticed a rope tied around it which trailed to the ground. He held up the frayed bit of rope for the others to see.

"It looks like he's escaped."

"I think he's done more than that," Ron said, crinkling his nose in disgust. He was staring at something in the grass near his feet.

They all stepped closer to see what Ron was looking at. Hermione let out a small yelp and Ginny turned her head. There was another rabbit stretched out there with its head bent backwards in a very unnatural state.

Ginny gasped. "That's not all. There are two dead mice over here," she said, pointing to another area of the clearing.

Instantly, they all began searching the clearing. Within moments, they had found a dove with a broken wing and five crumpled bowtruckles beneath an old oak tree that was pocked with scorch marks.

"Something's very wrong here," said Ginny nervously.

Buckbeak craned his neck down to take another bite of the rabbit.

"Buckbeak! NO!" Hermione yelled.

The hippogriff paused briefly but then stripped away another piece of flesh with its beak.

"We have to stop him," Hermione said anxiously, tugging uselessly at the rope.

"Hermione, relax," said Ron. "I know it's disgusting, but at least it's already dead."

"You don't understand. I think it's a trap. All of these animals are set out here like bait. They could be poisoned for all we know. We have to take Buckbeak back to Hagrid's."

After a considerable amount of effort, they were able to prod the hippogriff away from the clearing. They came across Hagrid midway on the walk back.

"Must've broke loose from the tree I'd tied him ter," Hagrid explained. "Thought he'd like a walk in the forest, yeh see. Bin lookin' fer him over an hour now. Hope he didn' cause you lot any trouble."

They glanced anxiously at one another. Hesitantly, Hermione started to explain where they had found Buckbeak and her concerns about the other creatures they had found there.

"Yeh say they were all small animals, Hermione?"

Hermione nodded. They had reached the paddock now and Hagrid prodded Buckbeak through the gate, locking it in place behind him. He looked carefully at the hippogriff, who was now preening his feathers unconcernedly.

"Hmm…Well, he looks fine ter me, but I'll keep an eye on him this evenin'. If he was poisoned, I reckon Beaky'd be showin' some sign of it by now.

"But, it's still ruddy strange, isn' it? I don' know of anythin' in the forest that'd kill all of those animals an' jus' leave 'em ter rot."

It was odd, Harry agreed. What kind of creature would kill small animals for any reason other than food? And whatever had killed them hadn't discriminated between magical and non-magical creatures. It seemed as though any creature within that clearing had suddenly been struck dead.

"Listen, I'd like all of yeh ter stay fer a bit," said Hagrid, "but, considerin' this...I think I'd ought ter walk yeh back ter the castle."

"But you said you had something to show us, Hagrid," said Harry..

"Oh, that," said Hagrid dismissively as he began to lead them back to the castle. "Well, I jus' wanted yeh ter meet Grawpy's new pet. But he's in the forest o' course an' it's not worth riskin' yer necks ter go see him."

"New…pet?" asked Hermione, who seemed to have turned a shade paler.

Any pet that could be a match for Grawp had to be enormous. And considering Hagrid's history with interesting creatures, it was most likely dangerous as well. But still, Harry felt a bit sorry for any creature that was forced to become the companion of a 16-foot giant.

"Wanted ter find him a lady friend," Hagrid continued, "but Grappy'll have to do fer now."

"Grappy?" Harry asked, not quite sure that he had heard correctly.

"Yeah. Thought it was funny - Grappy and Grawpy."

"What exactly is Grappy, Hagrid?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Well, he's a Graphorn, o' course."

"Oh, a Graphorn. Of course," said Hermione, sounding somewhat hysterical. "Oh yes, a Graphorn would make a lovely pet, really marvelous."

"Yeah," agreed Hagrid, who had obviously mistaken Hermione's sarcasm for enthusiasm. "Graphorns are huge animals and their hides are tough as boulders - tougher than dragons yeh know, so I don' have to worry about Grawpy playin' a bit rough."

"That's…er…really wonderful, Hagrid," said Ginny kindly.

Hagrid smiled warmly at her. "Yeah. Grawpy seems to like him well enough. Gettin' along thick as thieves, those two. Wait, yeh haven't even met Grawpy yet, have yeh? An' Ron neither. It'll be nice for him ter meet some new friends."

Ron and Ginny shared a nervous glance and smiled meekly at Hagrid in response.

"Well, o' course I'll introduce yeh sometime soon," Hagrid said happily, "once we find whatever's bin killin' those animals. Don' worry 'bout it. Might jus' be some thestrals who were scared off from their prey. But I think I'll take a look at that clearin' in the forest 'fore it gets dark. Do yeh remember where it was exactly?"

They had reached the base of the castle now and were standing at the top of a steep hill. Harry looked down at the grounds and his eyes followed the tree line that marked the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It all looked the same from here and he tried to remember something specific about the location. Just before they had found Buckbeak, he remembered hearing the Ravenclaw players on the Quidditch pitch and spotting the snitch sparkling in the sky above.

With complete certainty, he pointed to the dark patch of forest just beyond the pitch. Still staring at that section of the forest, he was jolted with a sudden intense feeling of déjà vu. The memory flashed in his mind of three figures walking back towards the forest - to the very place where he was pointing. With a sense of deep revulsion, he suddenly realized that the monsters they were searching for were entirely human.


	19. Ch 19: Shades of Red

**Harry Potter and the Forbidden Passage **

by Cendrillon

_Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to the creative mind of J.K. Rowling. I am merely borrowing her characters for my own and your amusement during the (now extremely short!) wait for Book 6. I am not benefitting monetarily for this story, my only rewards are your reviews._

_Author's Note: My apologies for the delay in this chapter. As it became obvious to me that I would not likely be able to produce another chapter before the release of Book 6, I decided to try to incorporate as much information in this one as possible - including the remaining entries I had written for Lily's diary. That being said, this is the longest chapter yet. _

* * *

**Chapter 19: Shades of Red**

Ever since the first day that they met, Harry had thought of Malfoy as a bully, a spoiled rich brat, a thorn in his side, and a general annoyance. But for some time now, Harry had stopped thinking of him as a danger. Oh, Draco certainly liked to sound tough, but his threats were mostly empty. If one thing had become glaringly clear to Harry in the last five years, it was that Draco Malfoy was a coward. He fought in words, not deeds. And if Crabbe and Goyle weren't always hovering around him, Harry very much doubted that Draco would have even dared to say half of the things he had over the years.

So, it was somewhat of a shock to learn that Draco had enough gall to do what he had, not to mention the fact that he'd even put so much as a toe into the Forbidden Forest. He and Crabbe and Goyle had, without a doubt, been practicing Unforgiveable Curses on small defenseless creatures. They had not only broken school rules, but wizarding law. Though he wouldn't put it past them to kill for their own amusement, he couldn't help but think that there was a greater purpose. And Harry had the distinct feeling that if they were allowed to continue, the victims wouldn't be limited to small animals.

To Harry's complete and utter frustration, there was nothing he could do about it. And it was driving him mad. Every time he saw Draco, he wanted to curse him into oblivion. But all he could do was watch as Malfoy smirked and laughed and pretended that he was anything but a monstrous little cretin. His voice, his face, everything about Draco could now send Harry on edge almost instantaneously. And if he had to endure one more Potions lesson with Draco, he knew he would crack.

Unfortunately, it was his glass flask that cracked instead. The glass shattered into tiny bits and cut into his palm when Harry clenched it a bit too tightly as Draco walked past him.

Draco sat on the far side of the room and didn't look at all intent on his potion. He was talking to Theodore Nott and Harry could only guess what they were discussing. When Malfoy looked up at him, Harry glared in response. Malfoy smiled, or rather smirked wickedly in response. Harry averted his eyes but couldn't hide his disgust.

"I think he knows," he said in a hushed tone to Hermione. He carefully slid the bits of finely chopped althea root into his cauldron. He stirred the solution three times counter-clockwise and it turned from a muddy brown color to a more yellowish muddy brown color.

"_Who _knows _what_?" she asked, dipping a flask into her own potion.

"Malfoy. He knows that we know."

"Why do you say that?"

"He's smirking."

"He's always smirking," Hermione said dismissively.

"Not like this, for no reason. Remind me again why we can't just turn him in?" he asked, grinding out the words between clenched teeth.

"Shh," she whispered. "Snape's coming around." She vanished the broken glass away quickly as Snape's back was turned.

"He's three tables away. He can't hear us," Harry said dismissively. "What if we just told McGonagall-"

"Harry, you know very well that we can't accuse Draco Malfoy without any evidence."

"But I saw him!"

"You saw him walking towards the forest. You didn't even see him in the forest and you certainly didn't see him using any curses."

"But he was walking to that very spot the night before. I'm telling you, Hermione, he did it."

"I know, Harry. I know. And I feel as angry as you do about it. It was a horrible thing he did and it has to stop, but there's nothing we can do without evidence. If we told any of the teachers, what could they do without proof? They couldn't expel him. All we'd do is create trouble for ourselves by revealing that we went into the forest alone."

"There's got to be something we can do," he said, pounding his fist on the table. "Maybe I could use Legilimency against him. Do you think Ramsey would teach it to me if I asked him?"

"No, you're there to learn Occlumency, not Legilimency. Besides, it wouldn't do you any good anyways. What do you think Dumbledore or McGonagall would say if you told them you were using Legilimency against another student?"

Although he had to admit that she had a point, sometimes it did seem that Hermione took the fun out of everything.

He dropped his voice to a whisper. "We could use Polyjuice again."

"No," Hermione whispered flatly. "We're not doing that again. Besides, what use would it be? You still couldn't accuse him without revealing that you used an illegal potion."

Harry scowled and pounded the venomous tentacula seeds in his mortar with a bit more force. He imagined what he'd like to do to Malfoy as he mashed the bright green seeds into a fine powder.

"Listen, Harry, Hagrid said he would keep an eye out for them. All we can do for now is hope that he catches them in time. He hasn't found anything else in over a week, so maybe they've stopped."

He threw Hermione a look that clearly showed his skepticism but he didn't have time to respond before Snape approached the table in front of them. Hermione had already corked her potion in a flask. It was golden yellow, almost the precise shade of butterbeer, just as the instructions had specified. He looked at his own potion which was still brown and murky. He had spent so much time thinking about Malfoy that he had completely neglected his potion.

He quickly measured the venomous tentacula seed powder and poured it into his cauldron. Unfortunately, he hadn't had time to do anything about the cut in his hand and a drop of his blood fell into his Unctuous Unction. The thick liquid turned from brown to a pale shade of red, actually a bubblegum pink, and started bubbling.

Hermione looked at his cauldron and gasped. "What did you do to it?"

He held out his hand to show her the cut in his palm.

"Blood?" Hermione asked weakly. "Oh, Harry, you'll never be able to fix it in time. Blood changes the magical properties of the potion."

He was about to ask her what it did exactly when they were interrupted. Why did it always seem that Snape arrived at the absolute worst of times? Sometimes it seemed as though he was drawn to Harry's problems like a moth to a flame.

Snape hovered in front of them, his eyes narrowing sharply on the mixture in Harry's cauldron.

"Mr. Potter, would you care to explain why your potion is…pink?" Snape said this last word with the utmost revulsion. His voice had carried over the entire classroom. Malfoy snickered in his corner.

With some hesitation, Harry explained the drop of blood that had fallen from the cut in his hand. Surely, Snape couldn't blame him for an injury.

He was wrong.

"If you think that I'm going to send you to Madam Pomfrey now, Potter, you would be mistaken. It was your carelessness that caused your injury and the damage to your potion. Everyone in this class should know by now that open wounds represent a potential risk in potion making and should be healed before approaching an open cauldron. Ten points from Gryffindor for your lack of common sense." The corners of Snape's mouth curled wickedly.

"But," Snape continued, "your potion may not be a total loss, provided that you have brewed it properly, which I sincerely doubt." Snape turned to the class. "Does anyone know what happens when blood is added to Gregory's Unctuous Unction?"

Hermione, who would have normally raised her hand before a teacher had even finished asking the question, remained oddly silent. Harry had a deep sense of foreboding about what was to come.

"No one?" Snape asked, his eyebrows raised as he scanned the classroom. "Not _one_ of my advanced students can answer this simple question?"

Sanpe turned to Hermione and towered over her. "Surely, you, Miss Granger, can answer. Or perhaps you would prefer to demonstrate the effects."

At this, Hermione looked up in horror at Snape. The smug look on Snape's face told Harry that he should prepare himself for the worst.

Hermione looked apologetically at him before answering with obvious reluctance.

"When blood is added, the effects of the potion are enhanced. Under normal conditions, the drinker would feel friendship for the giver of the potion. But if blood is added, instead the drinker will feel…romantic love for the blood's donor. Anyone who drank Harry's potion would fall temporarily in love with him."

"Your answer is incomplete, Miss Granger. The drinker will feel those emotions for twenty-four hours, but after that time they will feel nothing but absolute hatred. Since Gregory's Unctuous Unction is normally served to one's enemies, this isn't usually an issue. However, few know about that aspect of the potion and many use it in a misguided attempt to attract the opposite sex. As an ego boost one might say. But you hardly need that, do you, Potter?"

He had been sitting quietly and slowly simmering as Snape once again tried to humiliate him. But this was altogether too much.

"You think I intentionally cut myself to make some stupid love potion!" he yelled angrily.

"Temper, Potter," Snape said icily. On the opposite side of the classroom, Malfoy looked positively gleeful. "Another ten points from Gryffindor. And if you speak to me again in that tone, I will add a detention. Bottle up your potion and turn it in immediately if you don't want a zero for today's work."

Harry would have rather vanished this particular potion and taken the zero for the day, but he couldn't afford to fail this class. If he didn't achieve a satisfactory grade in Potions this year, Snape would not allow him to continue. That was the deal Snape had made with McGonagall. And if he did not continue Potions, he could not become an Auror, though he was seriously starting to wonder if that career goal was worth the constant abuse from Snape.

After the disaster in Potions, Harry felt, if possible, even angrier with Draco. He couldn't help but think that if Draco had not averted his concentration, he would never have been injured and he would have had the time to complete his potion properly. The blame was perhaps unjustified but he took a sort of vindictive pleasure in it. And the anger provoked him into pressing Hermione once again on the Draco issue in their Defense Against the Dark Arts class that afternoon.

"I can't believe you just want to sit back and do nothing about it, Hermione. Aren't you the one that always wants to help other creatures?"

"Ratting on Draco won't do us any good, Harry. We have no proof that he was the one behind the killings."

"But-"

"No. I know you saw them, Harry, but you didn't see them using the curse. And you didn't even see them at the site."

Ron, who thoroughly supported Harry position on the issue, spoke up. "Hermione, he saw them walking to the same part of the forest the night before. Come on, you know he did it."

"Yes, I do, Ron. I believe Harry. How many times do I have to tell you both that? But the only thing we can do is outsmart Malfoy and be prepared for whatever he sends our way. And to do that, we need to start having D.A. meetings again."

Harry groaned inwardly. Hermione had been making a regular habit in the past week of bringing up the D.A. every chance she had.

"Hermione, it's not that I don't want to continue the D.A.-"

"Good," she said, "because I've already arranged the first meeting. It's scheduled for the night before the first Hogsmeade outing."

"What? That's a Friday, we have Quidditch practice on Fridays!"

"You're the captain, aren't you? Cancel it."

"Hermione, I can't just cancel practices anytime I feel like it."

"Er, hate to contradict you, mate," Ron interjected, "but, yeah, you can."

Harry glared at him.

"Besides," Hermione continued "most of your team is on the D.A. anyways."

"But-"

"Not right now, class is about to start," she interrupted.

Harry glared furiously at her, but Hermione shrewdly avoided his gaze. Instead she focused on the front of the classroom where Professor Ramsey was setting up a number of brightly colored potions in pairs on a long table. This was the last thing Harry wanted to see after his disastrous Potions lesson that morning.

But it turned into a very interesting lesson. They had spent several weeks working on defensive spells but Ramsey had decided to break up their regular coursework with a lesson on dangerous potions. He showed them a number of potions in pairs that looked exactly alike, except that one of the potions would have no effect and the other was deadly or deceptive. But Ramsey taught them various methods to detect what type of potion each bottle contained. For most of the potions, a slight difference in smell or consistency was the key. Thinking back to the previous year, Harry was somewhat disappointed that he hadn't had a class like this before Umbridge had tried to serve him Veritaserum.

Grudgingly, Harry had to admit to a building respect for Ramsey. His practical lessons in Defense Against the Dark Arts were certainly never boring and suited to the new threasts that surrounded them as the result of Voldemort's return to power.

But respect and trust were two very different things. And trust was what had been preventing him from making more progress in his Occlumency lessons. Unlike Snape, however, Ramsey eventually understood this. And in his last Occlumency lesson, Ramsey offered something to Harry that Snape never had and never would have offered - the chance to feel and see the power of true Occlumency..

The first time Harry used the Legilimens curse on Ramsey, the spell had been completely ineffectual due to his inexperience and anxiety. He was completely bewildered and unprepared when Ramsey had first suggested it. He had never used the spell before. His only experience with Legilimency was the series of images he'd seen from Snape's mind the previous year, but that was the result of a rebounded curse without any intention on Harry's part.

The second time, he was careful to gather his concentration before proceeding. He knew he had done it correctly when he felt the power of the spell flow through his fingertips and out through his wand.

But no images came to him. Instead, as the spell should have hit Ramsey, he had felt forcefully repelled. Although nothing had physically touched him, the feeling had caused him to step back. It was almost as though an invisible barrier had suddenly appeared in front of him. And with it, a white light had filled his mind, so bright that it had distracted and disoriented him, despite the fact that it wasn't real.

While Harry had been so affected that he wouldn't have been able to continue without taking a moment to clear his head, the spell had not seemed to affect Ramsey in the slightest. Harry had never imagined that Occlumency could be quite so powerful. But Ramsey had been quick to warn him against using that style of Occlumency except in extreme circumstances.

"Occlumency can do more than simply block your mind," Ramsey had explained. "Once you master it, you will have the capability to deceive your enemies by projecting false images. And in most cases, this will be the far more advantageous solution. If the scene you convey is natural enough, the Legilimens will be fooled into thinking that they have succeeded."

When they tried once more, instead of the white light Harry saw a detailed image of the Hogwarts grounds. He could see the wind blowing through the trees and the water rippling on the lake. Students were laughing and strolling around the grounds. Some sat by the lake and watched as the giant squid's tentacles broke the water's surface.

It was an odd feeling to be looking at Ramsey and to see this image at the same time. He had concentrated so hard that the knuckles wrapped around his wand had turned white. And with some frustration, Harry had noticed that it was so effortless for Ramsey that he could continue his Occlumency without even looking in Harry's direction..

But when Ramsey finally had looked up and their eyes met,.the image of Hogwarts immediately vanished. Another image flashed in its place before almost immediately being replaced by the bright white light once more.

As soon as Harry had lowered his wand, the world had snapped back into focus. It was quite obvious that Ramsey had dropped his guard down and had released an image that had not been intended. But the image had flashed by so quickly that he couldn't be quite sure of what he had seen. All that he could remember was a flash of red. Not crimson or scarlet or blood red, but more of a dark copper color and sort of…shimmery.

He had hoped that if he had seen this red thing one more time, he might have been able to identify it. But Ramsey had not allowed that chance again. His thoughts thereafter had been completely impenetrable, and not once in the remainder of that session did Ramsey's gaze ever meet Harry's again

And still, now, even in class, Ramsey avoided looking at Harry directly. Ramsey didn't ignore him, but it reminded Harry all too much of Dumbledore the previous year. Ramsey would look to the side or over his head but he would never make eye contact. It was a bit unnerving and certainly didn't help with the trust issue.

Nonetheless, he had to admit that Ramsey was a decent Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor. In the first few weeks of classes, they had already learned scores of counterjinxes that Harry had never even heard of before. Ramsey's experiences abroad seemed to play a large factor in this. Magiventry was a highly dangerous line of work, as Hermione repeatedly told them, and Ramsey had clearly encountered more than his fair share of dark magic.

The Gryffindor students had already progressed beyond basic defense spells and were starting to study more complex and lesser known curses, like the slashing curse that Dolohov had used against Hermione. They had all learned so much in fact that Harry began to wonder what his role in the D.A. could possibly be anymore. What was there left to teach them?

But when the first D.A. meeting arrived a week later, this was no longer an issue. A much bigger question weighed on his mind - how was he going to teach them _all_?

They had arrived ten minutes early to the Room of Requirement to prepare it for the meeting. But instead of finding an empty room, they found well over a hundred students from various houses gathered in the seventh floor corridor. At the entrance to the Room of Requirement, Ernie MacMillan was desperately trying but failing to bring some order to the chaos.

Harry gaped at the scene in front of him. This was supposed to be a D.A. meeting not a D.A. convention! Who were all of these people and what were they doing here? He had a good idea who would know the answer.

"What's going on here?" he hissed, turning on Hermione. "I can't teach _all _of these people!"

Hermione withered slightly under his gaze and blanched as she looked around at the crowds in front of them.

"I don't know, Harry," she said uneasily. "Honestly! I swear I didn't invite them…well, maybe one or two…but I didn't invite all of these people. I used the coins to call the meeting. Only the D.A. members would have known the time - they must have invited the others."

"Maybe it's just a coincidence," Ron suggested weakly. "Flitwick's office is down the hall. Maybe he's scheduled…something?"

Harry crossed his arms and responded with a look of unveiled skepticism.

As if on cue, Susan Bones approached them with a small group of Hufflepuffs.

"Hey, Harry, I brought a few friends tonight. I hope you don't mind. A few extra won't matter, right?"

No, of course not. Why should he mind? What was another five or ten among a hundred?

There was no earthly way he could possibly teach all of these people. The D.A. had worked so well the previous year because he had been able to work with everyone individually. To teach this many people he'd either have to hold D.A. sessions every evening or use a Time-Turner, neither of which sounded like a very appealing proposition. His head began to throb with a dull ache which threatened to grow exponentially as the evening progressed.

"It's not that bad, Harry," Hermione said. "Just wait a minute. I think I might have an idea."

She pushed her way through the huddled masses until she was completely engulfed by them. A moment later the crowds started thinning as everyone filed into the Room of Requirement.

Tonight, the room was organized into neat rows of chairs and benches, enough to seat everyone. It would have almost looked like some sort of business meeting if not for the fact that the chairs were all different sizes and shapes. The room must have pulled them from all over the castle. There were simple wooden classroom chairs, benches from the Great Hall, and even a comfy red armchair that Harry recognized from the Gryffindor common room. There was also a rigid high-backed green leather chair that he could only presume was from the Slytherin common room. He wondered if anyone had been sitting in these chairs before they had magically disappeared.

Hermione was standing at the front of the room on a small dais.

"Everyone, please, take a seat," she called out. Once everyone had been seated and the room had quieted, she spoke again. "If you're here for the Defense Association meeting, raise your hand."

In unison, everyone in the room raised their hands with the exception of Harry and a small Ravenclaw boy, whose hand quickly shot up after a glance at his friends.

"As you may have noticed," Hermione continued, "we have a larger turnout tonight than we had planned. It's wonderful that you're all interested in practicing defense and we'll make sure that everyone is able to participate."

Harry cursed under his breath and glared furiously at Hermione. She caught his eye and acknowledged him with an almost imperceptible nod.

"However," she continued, "Harry will not be able to teach all of you."

The cries of protest that followed drowned out Harry's sigh of relief. Some even walked out of the room. Hermione tried to call everyone's attention back, but they were all speaking at once which made it rather difficult.

Ron suddenly stood up and yelled, "Shut it and listen up!"

The room fell silent once more. Hermione smiled appreciatively at Ron (who flushed in response) and continued.

"Now, I know you were all probably hoping to learn from Harry directly, but realistically that's not possible. However, I think I may have an alternative that will work. Since we'll have to divide up into separate sections, perhaps Harry can occasionally attend different meetings."

She paused, looking to Harry for his approval. He nodded his consent.

"Who's going to teach us then?" a Ravenclaw boy called out.

"Ah…well, last year's D.A. members have enough experience that they should be able to teach you what they've learned. Now, we still have to determine which members of your houses would be willing to train you. So, if you could all return to your common rooms now, we'll have a meeting of last year's D.A. members and sort all of that out. Then they will update you when we're through here."

This seemed to appease everyone because the Room of Requirement soon emptied out, leaving behind the previous year's D.A. members and a lot of empty chairs. When the room sensed that the chairs were no longer needed, the extras vanished and presumably returned to their former locations. They arranged the rest of the chairs into a circle for the meeting.

"All right then," Hermione said once they had settled. "I suppose our first order of business should be to determine who will tutor each house. Ron and I can handle Gryffindor." She picked up a clipboard that had magically appeared on a table and began writing their names.

Ron sputtered in a small sign of protest at being volunteered, but Hermione stared crossly at him and he silenced.

"And don't forget us," Ginny said reproachfully, indicating Neville, who was sitting next to her, and herself.

"Count me in for Hufflepuff," said Ernie.

"And me," chimed in Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott.

It was at this point that Harry realized someone was missing.

"Where's Justin?" he asked the Hufflepuffs. Justin Finch-Fletchley was curiously absent from the group that evening. And as Harry thought about it, it occurred to him that he couldn't remember ever seeing Justin yet this term.

"Haven't you heard?" said Ernie, looking surprised. "He's not coming back this year."

"His parents wouldn't let him return," explained Susan. "They didn't really want him to come back after his second year, after being Petrified and all. But with You-Know-Who back, they've decided that the wizarding world isn't safe enough."

"He's not the only one," piped in Anthony Goldstein. "There are a few Muggleborn Ravenclaws who haven't returned this year either."

"And one of my dormmates in Gryffindor," added Colin Creevey. "Mum didn't want us to return either," he said, indicating himself and his brother, Dennis. "But we talked her into it eventually. Telling her we were taking extra defense classes certainly helped."

In hindsight, Harry supposed he should have thought of this as a possibility. Naturally, parents would be worried about the safety of their children. But the idea of being pulled out of Hogwarts and the wizarding world for affectionate concern was unthinkable. If he was forced to leave the wizarding world at this point, he had no idea what he would do. He couldn't imagine being content sitting in a Muggle school somewhere after being trained as a wizard. Not to mention returning to life with the Dursleys year round.

They all sat around looking glum for a moment before Hermione encouraged them to get back to the task at hand.

"We're getting a bit sidetracked here. Ah…let's see," she said, looking at her clipboard, "we still need someone for Ravenclaw."

"Michael and I can train Ravenclaw," Cho said brightly, looking over at Michael Corner, who was sitting beside her.

The fond look she gave Michael made Harry slightly nauseous. He wasn't interested in dating Cho anymore, but it still felt miserable knowing that she had been able to move on so quickly. Wondering if Ginny felt similarly since Michael had been her last boyfriend, he glanced over at her only to find that she was looking at him. And she had apparently been thinking the same thing because she threw a glance to Cho and rolled her eyes. He felt a bit better after that.

"I can help," Luna added in a misty voice.

Hermione jotted down their names. "Well, now that that's been decided, maybe we should…" She looked up and frowned, staring at a corner of the room where a tall boy was emerging from the shadows.

"Hold on a minute, you've forgotten Slytherin," said the boy, who Harry now recognized as Blaise Zabini.

Ron let in a sharp intake of breath. "What are you doing here?" he asked sharply.

"Excuse me? This is a defense group isn't it? Why do you think I'm here then? I want to be able to defend myself."

"But Slytherins are the reason we need the D.A. to begin with," said Ron, his face turning red with anger. "You're probably just here to spy on us. Aren't you roommates with Malfoy and his gang?"

Blaise glared back at him. "I have better things to do with my time than to spy on you. And, yes, I share a dormitory with Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott. But that doesn't mean I'm one of them, and in case you didn't know, I'm a half-blood."

Ignoring Ron, Blaise looked to Hermione and glanced briefly at Harry. "Listen," he said in a hushed voice, "I know that Malfoy is organizing some kind of group to practice the Dark Arts and I want to be prepared if any of them ever turn on me. So I'd like to join your defense group, and there are others in Slytherin that would join too if you'll take us."

"Of course we will," Hermione said instantly.

Harry and Ron both stared at her.

"What? So you're just going to believe him then?" Ron asked, outraged.

"Would you excuse us for a moment, please?" Hermione asked Blaise sweetly. She yanked Ron firmly by the sleeve of his robes. She dragged him out of the room and called back, "Harry, you too."

Once they were out of earshot, Hermione began a blistering attack.

"Are you a complete idiot, Ron? Can't you see that Blaise could help us catch Malfoy? He knows what he's up to. He overhears things in their dormitory. He's the answer to our problems. If he can tell us when Malfoy's next meeting is, we'll have him."

Ron and Harry looked at each other.

"She's got a point," Harry acknowledged.

"Fine, Zabini's in," Ron said in a pained voice. "But why do we have to take the other Slytherins?"

"The Sorting Hat said that all four houses have to work together to succeed," Hermione explained. "And that has to start somewhere, so it might as well start with the D.A. Besides they have just as much of a right to join as anyone else. We're doing this to help people, and it shouldn't matter whether they're Slytherins or not. The more people we can bring to our side, the better, and especially if they're in Slytherin."

Ron sighed deeply. "All right," he conceded.

And so it was done. The D.A. would now accept Slytherins and Blaise Zabini began practicing with the original D.A. members that very evening. They decided to spend their first session practicing everything they had learned the prior year, which allowed Harry to assess how much Blaise already knew. By the end of the evening, he felt fairly certain that Blaise would be able to catch up with the rest after only a few more sessions. And somehow, by the end of the evening when everyone began to leave, Harry actually found himself arranging to give Blaise a private lesson on the Patronus charm.

Soon the room was nearly empty except for a few of the Gryffindors and a lot of debris. Hermione (who felt sorry for the house-elves that would have to clean up after them) insisted that they all should at least straighten the room up a bit before returning to Gryffindor Tower.

As Harry began working, he was distracted by the sound of laughter. He looked up to see Ginny and Dean both doubled over, laughing so hard they were fit to burst. At first Harry thought they might have still been practicing and had hexed each other with the Tickling Curse. But as their laughter subsided, he realized that it was genuine.

"Can you believe those two?" Ron said, coming to stand beside him. "They've been like that all night. You'd think they'd take the D.A. a bit more seriously. But that's Ginny for you."

Harry thought this was a bit hypocritical of Ron considering that he had seemed to be having a good deal of fun throwing hexes at Michael Corner and yelling in triumph whenever he landed one squarely. Hermione had had to remind him several times that he was supposed to be practicing with her, and not Michael.

"Do you think she's really going out with him?" Ron asked glumly, still looking over at the corner where Ginny and Dean were now talking animatedly.

"Looks like it," Harry replied.

"Sometimes I think she's just having a go at me. I mean, Dean's never mentioned Ginny to us, has he?"

Come to think of it, Harry couldn't remember Dean ever saying anything about Ginny as a friend or otherwise. But then again, Ron had made his feelings about his sister's relationship with Michael Corner perfectly clear to all of his roommates the previous year. He wouldn't blame Dean in the slightest if he chose not to mention any attraction to Ginny in front of Ron.

"Do you think he's asked her to Hogsmeade tomorrow?"

"Dunno. Probably," Harry replied.

Ron sneered in disgust but then his mouth turned into a mischievous and unsettling smile as he looked at Harry.

"What?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"Why don't you ask her?" Ron said.

"Me? What?"

"Ask her to come to Hogsmeade with us. Then we can find out for sure."

"Why me? She's_your _sister."

"Because she'll just think I'm interfering if I ask," Ron said, waving his hand dismissively.

"Well, aren't you?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yeah, but she doesn't have to know that. Come on, if _you _ask her, I know she'll come."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't be so sure. Remember what Hermione said - she's not interested in me anymore."

"She'll come," said Ron confidently. "Trust me."

"What do you have against Dean, anyways?"

"Nothing. He's a good friend and all. I just don't want him dating my sister. They just don't belong together. Ginny belongs with someone…else."

Harry rolled his eyes. He doubted anyone would be good enough for Ginny in Ron's opinion.

"Look," Ron said, glancing pointedly to the corner where Dean and Ginny had been, "Dean's talking to Seamus now, so she's free. Quick, ask her before he comes back."

"Fine," said Harry, exasperated.

Reluctantly, he walked over to Ginny and was already cursing himself for getting involved. He should have just said no. Why hadn't he? He thought about turning back and telling Ron that he'd changed his mind. But when he looked back, Ron was smiling and nodding encouragingly at him and making a slight shooing movement with his hand. He knew he would likely regret it later but he approached Ginny anyways.

"Ginny, could I…er…talk to you for a minute?" he asked.

"Hmm?" she said distractedly as she collected some of the books that Neville had knocked over when he had been hit by Parvati's stunning curse.

"I just wanted you to know that you could…er…join us on the Hogsmeade trip tomorrow…if you want that is…I mean if you don't already have plans."

Her smile faded and her eyes narrowed.

"Did Ron ask you to say that?" she questioned.

"Er…No," Harry lied unconvincingly.

"Yes, he did," she said flatly, rolling her eyes.

"Well, all right, he did," Harry confessed, "but you're still welcome to come with us. I mean, I certainly wouldn't mind."

Ginny sighed. "Listen, that's nice of you, Harry, but you can tell my nosy brother that I've made other arrangements."

"Well, if you change your mind-"

"Yes, maybe then," she interrupted impatiently. Her tone was clipped and her face rigid. But then she softened and looked up at him, the corners of her lips turning up into a small apologetic smile. "Thank you, Harry. It was kind of you to ask all the same."

"Er…right…no problem." An uncomfortable silence fell between them. After a moment, he said, "I think I'm going to kill Ron."

"Well, that makes two of us," Ginny said brightly. "Here, help me with these books. When we're done with this, maybe Hermione will finally let us leave."

Happy that the awkward moment was over, Harry gladly helped Ginny to tidy up the books. When they had finished, they didn't wait for Hermione's approval and left while she was busy ordering Ron, Dean, and Seamus to do some other task.

"So what do you think Ron's going to do when he finds out?" Ginny asked as they walked back to Gryffindor Tower.

"What do you mean? Finds out what?"

"About Viktor Krum of course! I mean Hermione swears that her meeting with him tomorrow in Hogsmeade isn't a date, but I don't think she's being very realistic about it. It may not be a date to her, but that doesn't mean it isn't to him. And if Ron sees them…"

Harry stopped on the spot and Ginny's words faded as his mind began churning. He had forgotten completely about Hermione's meeting with Krum. He had sworn to Hermione that he would hold a Quidditch practice and keep Ron away from Hogsmeade that day. But it was too late now, they had already made plans. He couldn't just disappoint the whole Quidditch team and tell them they had to stay behind for a practice at the last minute. He would just have to find some other way to keep Ron from seeing Krum, but Hogsmeade wasn't exactly a large town and they were bound to run into each other at some point. Hermione hadn't exactly seemed concerned about it, but he knew there would be trouble if Ron found out.

He explained his dilemma to Ginny, hoping that she might have some answer.

She looked thoughtful before she answered. "If you really want my advice, I wouldn't hide Ron from them. I would absolutely make sure that he sees them. This might be just the thing Ron needs to give him a push in the right direction."

"Either that or it will end their friendship."

"No, no," Ginny said dismissively. "They're too close for that. And besides, Hermione may not act like it, but deep down I think she really wants to make Ron a bit jealous. Otherwise she wouldn't encourage Krum so much. And she and Ron really thrive on conflict. If you ask me, this will only bring them closer and I think we'll all be a bit happier when that happens."

Harry wasn't so sure that allowing Ron to see Hermione and Krum together was a good idea, but he supposed that Ginny knew a bit more about these things than he did. He certainly was never going to understand how a girl's mind works. And if Hermione and Ron could finally sort it out with each other, that just might be worth the nearly inescapable fighting that was surely going to ensue.

"Password?" said the Fat Lady when they had reached her portrait.

"Felix Felicis!" Ginny said to the Fat Lady's portrait. The portrait swung open.

He watched as she entered ahead of him, her bright red hair shimmered in the candle light before she ducked into the shadow of the portrait hole.

Bright red…copper color…shimmering. An overwhelming sense of déjà vu suddenly swept over him. His mind was reeling. The image that Ramsey had not meant for him to see…the flash of shimmering coppery red - it was red hair. But why was Ramsey thinking about red hair?

Ramsey had sent the flash of red when he had looked into Harry's eyes…his green eyes…his mother's eyes.

The pieces of the puzzle were all coming together so rapidly that the feeling was almost overwhelming. But he had to be sure and there was one source he knew of that might have the answer.

The only problem was that half of Gryffindor was blocking him from it. Since he and Ginny had arrived first, all of the Gryffindors who had been turned away at the meeting were awaiting their return. So they found themselves besieged as soon as they stepped through the portrait hole.

Pulling Ginny aside, Harry whispered hurriedly to her. "I have to go. There's something I have to do. Can you deal with them without me?" he asked, nodding towards the crowd of students.

"Is something wrong?" Ginny asked with concern.

"No, but I have to go. I'll tell you about it later," he said as he turned and rushed up the stairs to his dormitory.

Once he'd reached his room, he threw open the lid of his trunk. Pushing aside the heaps of clothing and rubbish that littered the top half, he finally found what he was looking for - his mother's seventh year diary. If what Harry suspected was correct, then the diary would likely confirm it.

Quickly, he flipped to the last entry he'd read and scanned the page. Instantly he found the passage he was looking for.

_…I received a letter from Edgar this morning. The first word I've heard from him in three months. It appears that he's been traveling constantly since leaving Hogwarts and is living in India at the moment. Strange to compare last year's Head Boy with this year's…_

Last year's Head Boy? Hadn't Lupin mentioned in his letter that Ramsey had been Head Boy? Could Ramsey be this Edgar in his mother's diary?

Scrounging among the books and papers on his bedside table, he found Lupin's letter peaking out beneath an old copy of _The Daily Prophet_. He found the portion about Ramsey halfway down the page.

_…I knew Edgar Ramsey from my Hogwarts days. He was in Ravenclaw, a year ahead of me. Very bright student, among the top of his class - Head Boy in fact as I recall…_

So Ramsey was this Edgar character. There was no doubt in his mind now that the red flash he had seen definitely had something to do with his mother. But why was Ramsey thinking about her? Obviously they had known each other. Were they friends? If so, his mother had not sounded particularly happy about hearing from him.

He felt like an idiot for not noticing the links between the diary and Lupin's letter before. But then again, the last time he'd read the diary he hadn't even met Professor Ramsey yet. And he'd been interrupted with the news of Umbridge's trial, which had seemed quite a bit more interesting at the time.

He went back to the diary, reading for any further mention of Ramsey. The next few entries were mostly about classes, homework, or teachers, nothing too exciting. A mention of Voldemort here and there caught his attention briefly. The atmosphere of fear and terror in the wizarding world at that time could be sensed through her writings and Harry began to wonder if his world would now fall into that state. Perhaps the absence of some of the Muggleborns at Hogwarts was only the first sign of it.

But amidst these more serious entries, Harry found no mention further mention of Ramsey, other than one sentence that said that she'd received another letter from him, this time arriving from Thailand. With some disappointment, he also saw no further mention of his father until he reached Halloween of that year.

_October 31st,_

_Oh, Merlin, what have I done? This is a disaster. Why did I say it? Why? Why? I didn't mean to say it, the word just came tumbling out. Why did I say yes? And now I'm caught, I have to go through with it. I have to go on a date with James Potter. I hope I haven't made a mistake._

_What brought me to this moment? I always vowed to myself that I would never go out with anyone like Potter. No bullying toerags with egos large enough to accommodate the entire school. So why then did I accept Potter this time? _

_Was it his looks? I mean he has improved a bit in that department, I'll admit, but I sincerely hope I'm not quite that shallow. Or maybe it was because he's not really a bullying toerag anymore and his ego has deflated a bit. He doesn't seem nearly as cocky now as he did last year and he actually seems to be taking some responsibility now. I thought he'd use the Head Boy position to his own selfish advantage, but he's actually been very good about it. He's always early for rounds and he seems to take all of our duties very seriously. He even cut his Hogsmeade visit short today to help with the decorations for the Halloween Feast. It was so embarrassing to arrive back late and find him charming the last pumpkin into place. But I don't think I would have accepted him just because he's acting like a decent human being. It has to be something more._

_Maybe it was because he stopped asking me out everyday. I thought he had finally given up. I guess I was wrong. It was so nice for the last few weeks, being free of that. It wasn't that he was ignoring me completely, we still had rounds together every evening, but the tension between us relaxed a great deal. I suppose it gave me the chance to get to know the real James Potter. And to be perfectly truthful, I like the real James Potter. He's funny and charming and too clever by half, but really very…sweet. Oh, Merlin, I've just talked myself into this date, haven't I? _

_Well, it's only one outing in Hogsmeade, how bad can it be? Very bad actually, but I'll hope for the best. He did ask very sweetly during rounds tonight. Had he asked in the common room in front of everyone, I'm sure my answer would have been somewhat different. I only pray that he holds back from telling Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew immediately. But after spending more than six years with that lot, I think I would be safe in assuming that they're already well aware and that everyone in school will know by breakfast tomorrow. I'll just have to grin and bare it._

From what Harry could judge by the next entries, the date did go very well and there were many more dates that followed. By December of that year, they seemed to have been spending so much time together in fact that Harry wondered how Sirius and Remus had felt when James must obviously have stopped spending as much time with them. James even visited Lily's home during the Christmas break. It occurred to him vaguely that this was probably the first time his father had met his Aunt Petunia and he wondered if Aunt Petunia was as cold to James then as she was to Harry now.

The entries became more sparse as the year progressed and almost every one of them was about the progress in his parent's relationship. But as content as Harry was now to discover the true nature of his parent's courtship, he found that he didn't really want to know all of the details (especially the bits about snogging). But then he finally found what he was looking for - another mention of Ramsey.

_March 2nd,_

_I have come to a strange conclusion. I think, no, I know I am in love with James. If someone had told me a year ago that I would say those words, I would have cursed them on the spot. But it's true, I love him. Suddenly, I find that I can't imagine my life without him somewhere in it. I feel intense mind numbing joy whenever he so much as looks at me and an aching longing when he isn't near. Sometimes I even have the urge to go up to the boys dormitory in the middle of the night just to see what he looks like when he's sleeping. _

_I never thought I would love again after Edgar. Silly crushes perhaps, like my former attraction to Remus, but not love. I felt so betrayed by Edgar - betrayed for believing that he was more than he proved to be. I couldn't believe that the man that I thought I loved could do such a thing. I know that in the same situation, James would not have disappointed me the way that Edgar had. _

_And now I have to wonder if I ever truly loved Edgar. As a friend, yes, certainly I loved him, but as a romantic love? And if that was love, then what is this? What I feel right now for James is so much more than anything I've ever known. _

_James Potter, what have you done to me? You've turned me into some silly school girl prattling on about love. I am NOT that kind of girl. _

Unfortunately, that was the final entry in the diary. But it proved what Harry had suspected about the relationship between his mother and Ramsey - namely that there actually was a relationship. This explained so much. It explained the enmity between Ramsey and his father and yet the relative kindness that Ramsey showed him compared to Snape, who also hated his father. It explained the flash of red that Ramsey saw when he looked into his eyes and Ramsey's attempts to avoid any further eye contact. But what it didn't explain was what horrible thing Ramsey had done that had disappointed Lily to such an extent that it had ended their relationship.

Lupin had also mentioned something that Ramsey had done, something that he said Dumbledore wouldn't have known about. Could they have been talking about the same thing? There was only one way to find out. He'd have to get in touch with Lupin, tomorrow if possible.

He thought about using the fire in the common room to contact him, but he could still hear noise from there. From the sounds of it, it seemed that most of Gryffindor was still down there. Looking at his watch, he noted that it was well after midnight. But just as he began to wonder why none of his dormmates had come upstairs yet, the door burst open. Ron, whose face was as red as his hair, marched through the doorway.

"KRUM! She's seeing Krum tomorrow and _you_ didn't tell me!"

Harry sighed, rolled over and closed the red velvet drapes surrounding his bed to muffle Ron's shouting. At least he didn't have to worry anymore about Ron finding out. That was clearly well taken care of. Now he would just have to keep Ron far enough away from Hermione to give her some peace. But now that Ron knew, that was going to be close to impossible. Maybe Ginny was right, maybe he should just sit back, relax, and enjoy the show.

Tomorrow promised to be a very interesting day indeed.

* * *

_Final Author's Notes: _

_As you may well imagine, the future of this story is questionable considering the fast approach of the Book 6 release. Very soon, much of this story will become AU. Parts of it, particularly the storyline involving Professor Ramsey will likely still work with canon, but I rather doubt that the interest will still be there. I am disappointed, as I'm sure you are, that I was unable to finish the story before the Book 6 release. Writing Harry's entire 6th year proved to be a task that was far more than I could handle, I simply didn't have the time or creativity for such a daunting task. _

_However, I have now written 19 chapters and well over two hundred pages - I know the word count well exceeds that of Book 1 at least. So I am proud of the overall accomplishment and I hope that I have succeeded in my original goal - to keep myself and a few others entertained until Book 6. Since this story mostly attempts to explain my theories about the future of the HP books, hopefully Book 6 will provide the resolution on some of the things that haven't happened yet in this story - like the development of R/H and H/G, some kind of punishment for Umbridge, and maybe even Krum's return. If not, I will certainly be more than willing to address those issues in future - although I'm not sure yet by which means (continuing this story, answering questions via email, writing new short fics, or posting in my Livejournal). I will post some of the future scenes I've pre-written and perhaps some deleted scenes in my Livejournal (username is beaustylo) on or before Friday, July 15th. And if you have questions, email me or leave a comment with your contact information and I will respond._

_Thank you to all of my readers, particularly those of you who have reviewed on a regular basis and those that have stuck with me since the beginning. Your kind and thoughtful reviews are appreciated more than you could possibly know and have definitely had an effect in keeping me focused on this massive effort for the last two years._

_Enjoy HBP and celebrate in the joys of new canon!_

_Cendrillon_

_**EDIT 07/11/05:** After the first few reviews came in, I had a lot of people who were upset and under the_ _impression that I would definitely not be continuing this. That is not what I intended to express. I am merely trying to say that I'm unsure how reading HBP will affect my storylines and desire to continue. For example, should there be some unexpected death, I might feel odd about writing that character. _

For the time being, I'm trying to write as much as I can of Chapter 20 just in case I can sneak it in somehow (very unlikely though as I only have about a page so far). I've already received a few reviews requesting me to continuepost-HBP even if my plot ideas don't work with canon, which is very flattering.We shall have to wait and see. For the moment, I really do want all of you to enjoy HBP and not worry about this fic. What J.K. will give us will be so much better than anything that can come from my poor brain. This story is just a narrative form of my theories and with any hope, most of them will be proven or disproven in a few days.

_Now that all of that is said, I wouldn't mind some reviews that commented on the actual content of the chapter. Did you like Lily's diary? Do you like Ron's meddling with Harry and Ginny? _;-) _And what about Blaise? Cool Slytherin or Draco's spy?_


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